


Neal Bonds? (draft)

by ract46



Series: Omega!Neal [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alpha!Peter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mating Bonds, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Possessive Alphas, alpha!Jones, beta!Elizabeth, omega!Caffrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to my story <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/622104/">Snowbound Heat</a></p><p>Neal Caffrey had gone into heat while trapped in a cabin with Agent Clinton Jones.  Now they deal with the consequences, do they maintain and build the bond that is forming between them; or do they break it.  Meanwhile Peter Burke tries to find out what happened to Neal's heat suppressants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is un-beta'd and all mistakes are my own.

Neal slumps against the back of the seat of the car; he’s just grateful that his heat is over, at least he knows now that the sudden very frequent trips to bathroom on the days before his heat hadn’t been down to something he had eaten like he thought they had. It was _just_ the start of his heat cleaning him out in preparation; if it wasn’t for the fact that he was on suppressants, and there for not expecting to go into heat, he might have recognised the signs. _Might have_ , it’s not like he’s allowed himself much exposure to them in the past.

And at least Peter Burke got his suit cleaned before his heat ended so he’s not sitting in clothes stinking of the pheromones secreted in his sweat from his heat and sticky with the residue of his slick.

Well, it isn’t really a car, a vehicle definitely. It’s more of a jeep than anything; it’s big and bulky and built for all terrains, undeniably built more for the great outdoors than to be used to get around the city. And while over the last few days the roads have been partially cleared there are still high banks of drifting snow; Neal wonders if the city is as white as the scenery surrounding him just now.

Neal wraps his arms around himself, holding it together as best he can. The need to be near Clinton growing; but that’s the longing, he knows that. _Does the longing exist at the other side of the bond_? Neal doesn’t think so; _an Alpha would have to really hate someone to bond to them and then hurt them that much while putting themselves through just as much pain_.

He’s not sure how Clinton is feeling; Clinton is in the other vehicle; behind the one that Neal is in with Peter.

As soon as Neal’s heat had finished Clinton and he were separated; ‘ _procedure_ ‘ Peter had told them; Clinton looked as though he was going to rip Peter apart as he put himself between Clinton and Neal.

“Neal had not shown nor registered an interest in being collared by you Jones, and you had never shown or registered an interest in collaring Neal,” Peter had calmly stated, “so as Neal had been on suppressants and should not have gone into heat, his heat and your bond needs to be investigated. It’s procedure when any agent is involved in an ‘ _accidental bonding_ ‘; to ensure that the omega was not forced into _accepting_ the agent as their Alpha.”

So, Neal and Clinton are going to be separated for at least the four to five hours it is going to take to drive back to the city.

\---

Peter can’t help but notice how on edge Neal is during the drive back; either his leg is constantly jiggling, or he’s playing with something in his hands, a coin, a pen, anything. Neal is just constantly moving; and always looking around, looking for something, most likely someone, most likely Clinton Jones. Neal was clearly in the first stages of ‘ _the longing_ ‘; that need that a bonded pair would have to be near each other, touch each other. The omega, or even beta, to know the safety of being with their alpha; and the alpha needing to know their mate is safe. It isn’t something that occurs between two betas; _the longing_ only occurs between an alpha and a beta, or an alpha and an omega.

The bond between an alpha and their mate is weak when first created; it strengthens with the closeness of the mated pair, with touch and intimacy. Separation during this initial period of a newly formed bond creates _the longing_ , the need for closeness and touch; to build and strengthen the bond. The longer the separation the greater the emotional instability, the feeling of loss, of pain that _the longing_ creates as the bond withers and dies.

Peter had thought that they would have made it back to the city before any signs started to manifest. He remembers his own, when he and Elisabeth bonded; neither of them were this affected. Theoretically he knew that a bond between an alpha and an omega was deeper; he had just never witnessed a newly formed bond in an alpha/omega mated pair; though the strength of it was apparently enough that Diana had just texted him from the other car that they **_had_** to sedate Jones.

Maybe that was related to small whimpers escaping from Neal now. Peter didn’t want to think on just how deeply they were both being affected, how deeply they would be affected as the day wore on; they would still have to be kept apart until after they had been separately questioned for the investigation to ensure that Jones had not forced Neal to accept the bond. The agents to carry out that questioning would be waiting for them when they arrived back at their headquarters.

\---

Peter had to hold Neal back as they left the car; he immediately started to head towards Jones. Jones himself was still groggy from the sedative that Diana had given him to keep him calm at his separation from Neal. Even so, he instinctively tried to walk to Neal, only to stumble from the sedation and have to be held up by the agent with her; Westley, Peter thinks his name is. He’s a beta and he’s new; Peter doesn’t know him that well yet, but his reflexes are certainly quick.

The agents from the Office of Professional Responsibility (OPR) were waiting in Hughes’ office when they got back to the city. That was to be expected, they were the authority for investigating possible misconduct. Peter’s worst fears were realised when he saw that Fowler was the agent in charge of the investigation.

Peter had heard about the investigations into accidental bonding; it was an hour questioning each of the parties involved, separately, then an hour verifying statements looking for inconstancies and checking whether either of them wanted to go through _the longing_ to break the bond.

Fowler had already been questioning Neal for two hours, and was still in the room asking the same questions over and over.

_Did you notice anything different when you were taken for your suppressant shot?_

_When did you first notice that the shot wasn’t working?_

_When did you first notice that you were going into heat?_

_When Agent Jones noticed you were in heat what was his reaction?_

_Did Agent Jones attempt to extradite himself from your location?_

_Did Agent Jones force himself on you?_

Peter is convinced that if it was anyone other than Neal Caffrey and one of his agents this would be over already; _Fowler is just stringing this out because he can, to get to him and get to Neal_. He has to talk to Hughes, see if he can convince Fowlers’ bosses to reign him in.

\---

Clinton Jones was sitting at his desk. He’d been questioned by the OPR agents for over an hour, while Fowler and another agent questioned Neal; still questioned Neal. They kept going over the same questions.

_When did you notice that Mr Caffrey was going into heat?_

_Were you surprised that Mr Caffrey was in heat?_

_What did you do when you noticed that your boss’s CI was going into heat?_

It didn’t matter that he gave the same answers time after time...

“ _I didn’t notice him going into heat, I noticed when he was in heat._ “

“ ** _Yes_ , I was surprised; he had been for his suppressant shot only a few days before, so **_Neal was surprised too._ “

“ _I told him to lock himself in the room upstairs; I couldn’t contact Agent Burke or the rest of the team due to the snowstorm. I looked around the rest of the cabin for something that he could use to... relieve the tension.”_

At this point the wording of the question changed each time; but how many ways can you ask, _so how the fuck did you end up mating with him and bonding to him_?

“I went to check on him, to tell him there was no suitable _toy_ in the place; I told him not to open the door that if he opened the door I was going to claim him, mate him, and bond to him as his alpha. I told him that he was not to open the door unless he wanted me to bond with him.”

But all of them in that interview room knew; **_they knew_ that Neal was in heat and was not capable of making that rational decision, _they knew_** _that with Neal’s pheromones affecting Clinton neither was he_. But a bond doesn’t just form because you had sex; there has to be something there to _spark_ it into existence. So whether Clinton and Neal realised it or not they had a connection; it may only be a physical compatibility, _but it’s a connection that can become more_.

The incessant questioning had been gnawing at Clinton’s mood; making him more and more irritable. They were keeping him here, _away from Neal_ , asking the same questions again and again, when all he wanted was to know that Neal was okay, to see and touch his bonded mate. If they had asked him the same questions again he would have ripped their throats out; all he cared about was ensuring that Neal was safe, that nobody was threatening, or _making a move on_ his mate.

When Fowler and the other agent that had been questioning Neal finally come back from the interview rooms to say that they were satisfied that no coercion was involved in the mating and bonding Clinton really didn’t care; **_all he noticed was that Neal was not with them_**.

“Where’s Neal!” Clinton demanded, the low growl in his voice reverberating across the room.

“Agent Jones,” Fowlers’ insincere smile turns its attention to Clinton, “Mr Caffrey has decided that as neither of had intended to mate and bond it would be in the interests of both parties to allow the bond to break.”

Fowler is still talking; at least his lips are moving, but all Clinton can hear is the roar in his ears as the blood rushes through. The words don’t make sense; he and Neal had talked about it. They were going to make it work; they may not have planned to bond, but the fact they had meant that they were at least compatible, they had something to work from.

The next thing Clinton recalls is being dragged off Fowler as he snarls at him, “ ** _What have you done with him? Where have you taken MY Neal?_** “


	2. Chapter 2

Clinton is pacing around Hughes office; Diana is standing by the door.

They can hear the shouting outside the room; Fowler clamouring for his blood, Peter and Hughes saying how such a reaction really should be expected from an alpha beginning to experience the longing being told that his bonded omega wants to break their bond by another unbonded alpha. Fowler wants him suspended at the very least. 

Clinton doesn’t care; all he cares about is finding out where Neal is, being told by him that he doesn’t want to remain bonded. Because he knows that’s not what he’ll say; it’s not what they said during those three days of Neal’s heat.

They talked about making their future together. Well, Clinton did; Neal was fairly quiet during the downtime. _Could he have read the situation so completely wrong? Could Neal not have wanted to remain bonded?_

He still needs to hear it for himself; from Neal.

\---

It takes about four weeks, give or take, for the bond to break; four weeks of longing for the piece of you that’s missing. The emptiness gnawing at your insides, the pain shredding your soul.

Neal knew all this; remembered this from before.

Yet, here he was again; experiencing the same pain and emptiness that he promised himself he never would. He didn’t know why the suppressants hadn’t worked; they always worked, dampened the heat, stopped the pheromones and killed the aching need.

That is the part that Neal could never accept; the _neediness_ of being an omega in heat. The aching need that made you spread yourself before an alpha’s cock, _any alpha’s cock_ , and beg for it. During the heat you didn’t care, you’d writhe on that cock, lift yourself off it and plunge back down on it hard, filling yourself, filling the emptiness, blotting out the ache and need with the feel of it riding over that spot hidden inside you; _but afterwards_.

Afterwards when the heat had ended and you’re lying on your bed pulling the fake alpha cock out of your ass, covered in sweat and dried come, your own dried come, sticking to your body, itching your skin. Then you’re left in the loneliness of your own shameful need; in a room filled with the stench of three days of stale sweat, sex and dried come.

\---

He can’t face June when he gets back home; he rushes past her, clambering to his apartment; her pleas of “Neal, what’s wrong,” being replied to with a “Not now, please, I just need to sleep.”

Sleep he isn’t going to get as he closes his door behind him and slumps to the floor.

Last time he knew what was coming from the start; Adler told him from the moment his cock was thrust into Neal’s wet hole, Neal was chained to the bed at the time.

To be clear his heat was a shock, he’d taken the pills as always; he just wasn’t aware that they had been switched, Vincent Adler turned out to be more shrewd and aware of who Neal was and what he was doing than expected.

Looking back he put it down to something that he ate then too; thought it was the shellfish at lunch. Then he had felt uncomfortably hot in Adler’s office the next day, he stood up to say he was feeling unwell and needed to go home; swayed on his feet and fell into Adler’s embrace. He had been behind his desk and Neal wasn’t sure when he came around to the same side.

“Don’t worry Neal, I’ve got you,” Adler’s voice thick and deep in his ear; _and he didn’t even pick up on the fact that Adler had called him ‘_ ** _Neal_ ‘ and not ‘ _Nick_** _‘_. Adler’s hand is on the back of Neal’s head, pulling him into the crook of Adler’s neck and all Neal can do is breathe in the scent of the alpha; it pulls a needy moan from Neal and makes him wet with the want.

“I’m gonna take care you, give you what you need,” Adler growls into his ear and heavy hard slaps land on Neal’s ass as Adler spanks him; the sting through his suit pants making him hiss as he clings to Adler like he’s the only thing stopping him from falling into oblivion never to return. Neal feels the tightness in his groin as he hardens, he whines into Adler’s neck, his vision blurs and everything goes black.

When Neal came back to consciousness he was naked, in a strange room, in a strange bed; he was chained to the bed, lying on his stomach with his limbs pulled to the corners of the bed and his ass in the air; the coolness of the air blowing against his wet slick empty hole.

But none of that is what Neal first noticed.

No. The first detail to grab his attention was the faint trace of the alpha scent, the alpha that had held him, had spanked him and told him he would take care of him; the second thing he noticed was the need coiling in the pit of his stomach for that alpha to take him and claim him, making him whine around the rubber ball gag in his mouth.

The increase in the alpha’s scent stirs his need, making him stretch his legs further apart, lift his ass off the pillows raising his hips off the bed, spreading himself open and the slick flows freely letting the alpha know he is ready and keen.

The fingers ghost over his opening, catching his slick, and he pushes his ass back trying to reach into the touch; trying to get them to breach inside him, fill his emptiness.

“Such a needy slut,” Adler’s voice is gruff and heavy with his own arousal, he leans down over Neal, surrounding him with his scent spiking Neal’s arousal, his lips brushing against the lobe of Neal’s ear, “you were so close Neal, and yet so far. Did you really think you could con me? Silly boy.”

He nips at Neal’s ear lightly with his teeth, causing Neal to gasp in need and buck back into Adler’s touch; Adler bathes the shell of Neal’s ear with his tongue and Neal begs inaudibly around the gag. _Please. Need. Please. Need you. Need so much_.

Suddenly the alpha was walking away from him; round to the other side of the bed. Neal watched through half-lidded eyes as Adler stripped and carefully folded and placed his clothes remaining clothes on a chair; his suit already hanging by the closet.

Naked, Adler turned to him, his cock hard and dripping; the sight of it made Neal salivate and his slick flow, eager to be taken either way. He whined around the gag.

Adler straddled Neal, sitting astride his ass; he leaned down possessively over his back, nipped at his ear again then told him exactly what was going to happen.

“The password you were looking for is ‘ _ancientlyre_ ‘, like the musical instrument. The reason I’m telling you is that I’m going to fuck you, knot you, claim you; again and again and again.” All Neal can think is yes, yes, want to feel your knot, need to feel it, need to be claimed.

“By the time your heat is over in three days, or sooner if I get you pregnant, _we’ll be bonded and you’ll be mine_ ,” Adler continues, ignoring the needy whimpers from Neal as he pushes back against Adler’s crotch resting the crease of his ass, “ _then, I’ll be on a plane to the other side of the world and you will never see me again_.”

Adler sinks his whole length into Neal in one forceful push; he’s hammering into Neal before the words have even registered, the brutal pounding of his thrusts taking all coherent thoughts from Neal’s mind as the feel of _his alpha_ in him, _claiming him_ , floods his senses as Adler’s knot swells in him, locking them together.

Later, after Adler has hand fed him, given him water, and Neal’s heat is rising again, he has Neal turned over on his back and is playing his is nipples, biting, pulling; and Neal is begging.

“ _Please, don’t leave me, please take me with you_ ,” Neal’s voice is pitiful and whiney even to his own ears, making him think why wouldn’t his alpha abandon him, “ _please I’ll be good, I’ll be obedient_.”

Adler never stops touching him, caressing him, fucking him, whispering into his ear ‘ _you’re mine, I’ve claimed you and I’m gonna fill your belly with a brood_ ‘. Constantly, touching and encouraging the bond to form.

The three days were a haze of heated sex and knotting, soft caresses and gentle touches; of Neal begging his alpha not to leave him.

When his heat broke he was lying wrapped in Adler’ arms; still secured to the bed, only now by a metal chain attached to the collar padlocked around his neck. The collar gave him hope that his alpha wasn’t going to abandon him.

Adler told him to turn over onto his stomach; he felt the sting of the slaps as Adler started spanking him, _then his vision blurred and everything went black_.

When he came to he was still in the bed, his collar was gone and there was no sign of his alpha; there was a hypodermic on the bedside cabinet. He was frantic, scared and needed his alpha; he searched the hotel suite, but Adler was gone.

Neal made his way back home. Kate was there, worried why there had been no word from him for the last three days; he fell into her arms, the tears falling from him as he broke-down and told her everything.

She comforted him with a gentle touch and caress, held him close and cradled him in her arms through the pain and ache of the longing; and the miscarriage, the stress of the longing proving to being unconducive to carrying a child of the alpha whose bond is being broken.

\---

Neal bangs his head against the door in frustration; at his situation, at himself. He stands and heads to his bed, strips to his boxers and curls himself around his pillows.

He hadn’t wanted to be bonded to an alpha again; he hadn’t wanted to be bonded to an alpha then either. This time he had been willing to live with it; he had thought that his alpha, that Clinton... that Jones was willing to try to make it work too. He said so all the way through Neal’s heat.

But Agent Fowlers words made sense.

“Why would he want to remain bonded? Neither of you intended for the bond to happen; it was an accident of an unbonded alpha and an omega in heat being trapped in the same place at the wrong time. Neither of you had ever shown an interest in the other, Agent Jones was known to be looking to bond to a female beta; and you had clearly stated you never intended to bond to an alpha.

You know how messed up your emotions and thoughts get when you’re in heat; how do you think it is for an alpha catching the scent of a ripe omega presenting itself for the claiming? Don’t you think he might have been influenced by your heat as much as you were? Don’t you think it would be better to endure the longing and let the bond die?”

All Neal could think was ‘ _Why would Clinton want to remain bonded to a male omega ex-con when a nice female beta would be so much better for his career?_ ‘


	3. Chapter 3

Peter’s instinct was telling him that something was off; it just wasn’t right and there were too many coincidences.

Neal Caffrey goes into heat, after his regular suppressant shot. Shots that rarely fail and that in three days so far he has not been able to get an explanation as to what went wrong.

At a time Neal went into heat he was expected to be in a meeting with an unbonded Alpha; Agent Fowler.

After the OPR investigation, into the bonding between Caffrey and Agent Jones, Caffrey has decided that he wants to break the bond; the OPR agent interviewing Caffrey was Agent Fowler.

Jones is convinced that Neal wouldn’t have made the decision to break their bond without coercion. Despite neither of them having expressed an interest in the other prior to Neal’s heat during the lucid times between the flares of need brought on by the omega’s heat they talked about it, and Neal never said he would want to break the bond.

So, that’s why he’s here in Hughes’ office asking for himself and Jones to be allowed to go talk to Neal; so that Jones can hear from Neal himself that he wants to break the bond. He can’t accept it being true otherwise, and that will only cause problems in the office when Neal is able to return.

“Absolutely not,” Fowler demanded, “Agent Jones cannot be allowed to coerce a vulnerable omega into maintaining a bond that they did not want.”

“Agreed,” Peter easily admitted, not that he believed Jones would coerce Caffrey, “Agent Jones only needs to hear Caffrey say that he doesn’t want to maintain their unexpected bond; I’ll talk to Caffrey.”

“Agreed,” Hughes says, “it’s the only way that Jones will accept that Caffrey doesn’t want to be bonded,” Hughes looks pointedly at Agent Fowler, “I wouldn’t accept another _unbonded alpha_ telling me that my bond-mate wanted to break our bond.”

“I can’t agree with Jones and Burke being alone with Caffrey,” Fowler’s tone is snarky and bordering on shouting, at Hughes, he seems close to frustration, “I need to be there to ensure there is no _undue duress_ placed on Caffrey.”

“ **Absolutely not!** “ Peter cannot countenance Fowler being allowed anywhere near Caffrey, so **_there is no way_** Jones will would be able to hold it together if Fowler is near Caffrey, “There can’t be an unbonded alpha near Caffrey **_if_** he is going to reject Jones.”

Peter is relieved when Hughes agrees, and Fowler has to relent. One of the OPR agents who is a beta will accompany Peter with Jones. Jones will not be allowed in the same room as Caffrey; Peter will talk to Caffrey, with OPR agent. Jones will be outside the room so he can hear the conversation.

\---

“Agent Burke,” June Ellington’s greeting as she answers the door is both questioning and demanding; she doesn’t open the door enough for them to enter, she may be a beta but she’ll not be intimidated by the alphas, keeping them on the doorstep.

June knows that something is up with Neal; something serious enough to either be related to the alphas on her doorstep or Kate Moreau. The only two things she knows could rattle Neal as much as he clearly was when he arrived home earlier.

“May we come in,” Peter asks though June can detect the alpha demand behind the words, “we need to speak with Neal.”

“Is this official business?” she won’t have a choice but to let them in if it is, “or is it a social call?” The scowl etched across Agent Burke’s brow in his frustration is deeply satisfying, “Neal didn’t seem to be feeling very well earlier,” the chocked whine from the other alpha makes her pause, the pained expression reminiscent of one Neal had, the tension in his body as if desperately holding himself back from barging through her door; he’s going through the longing.

“What’s going on?” she needs to know if Neal was forced to bond with this alpha, because if he was and he’s trying to break it she’ll help Neal any way that she can.

\---

Neal is sitting in a chair at his dining table, Peter and June are sitting opposite him, June’s hands across the table holding his, the concern she feels evident in the smile she wears that doesn’t reach her eyes; Neal knows he must look bad.

He also knows that his alpha is just on the other side of his door, he can smell him, almost feel his presence heavy and demanding, pulling at him. His eyes keep flicking from Peter and June to the door; the need to go to him, to be held by him, is almost overpowering. He can’t concentrate on what Peter is saying, asking him, he partly wishes he hadn’t taken those painkillers that Agent Fowler gave him. They’re making him drowsy, but they dull the ache he feels. They also make it difficult for him to fight his omega nature, the same nature that had him begging Vincent Adler not to abandon him, the instinct to please his alpha. He hates how needy he is right now, how much he wants to rush to the door and beg his alpha to want him; _but Fowler made sense_ , Jones wouldn’t really want him if it wasn’t for Neal’s heat affecting him. _Jones wants a beta for a bond-mate just like Peter has_.

“Neal?” Peter softly asks; it sounds like maybe it isn’t the first time he’s tried to get his attention.

“Sorry,” Neal pulls his focus back to Peter, “what were you asking?”

“Agent Burke was asking you what makes you think Agent Jones doesn’t really want to be bonded to you?” June softly repeats Peter’s question.

“It was just my heat that made him think that,” Neal is a little unfocused, the effects of the longing, the scent of his alpha so close and the effects of the pills he has taken, “messed with his emotions, I’m just trying to do the right thing and let him find the mate he wants.”

“What makes you think it was just your heat that made him want to remain bonded to you Neal?” Peter asks, a determined and considered look set on his face.

“Fowler explained it,” there’s a growl from the other side of the door, “how it messes with my emotions and it confuses an alpha just as much.”

“Neal,” Peter’s determined look is still in place as he lets a little of his alpha tone seep in to capture Neal’ full attention, he ignores the louder growl from the door, “you just said that your heat affects your judgement and the alphas’ judgement; yet you were thinking clearly enough to listen to Agent Fowler and decide that the right thing to do was allow the bond to break because your alpha didn’t want it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, if you were thinking clearly and not being affected by your heat or the bond when deciding that, then your alpha must also be able to think clearly, right?”

“But...”

“No buts Neal,” Peter interrupts him, “Yes or no?”

“I guess he must be, yes.”

“So, your alpha says he wants to remain bonded,” Peter and June are both staring at him earnestly, “it’s up to you Neal, do you want to break the bond or not?”

“But...” 

“Neal, do you want to remain bonded to Jones, yes or no?”

Neal knows one of his reason to remain bonded is so he doesn’t go through the longing _again_ , he hates being a needy omega, he hates the thought of submissively bowing to his alpha’s wishes and burying his own desires and aspirations in favour of his alpha’s desires; he can already feel the submissive need of his nature calling to him, another reason to remain bonded.

“Yes.”

\---

Neal and Clinton are lying on Neal’s bed, both with a towel wrapped around their waist and wrapped in each other’s embrace; Neal has his nose buried in the crook of his alpha’s neck inhaling his scent, and Clinton has one hand fisted in Neal’s hair with his chin resting on the top of Neal’s head.

They took a shower together when Peter, the OPR agent, _Neal never got his name_ , and June left them alone about an hour ago; they both needed to wash the grime of the days travelling and the hours of questioning from Fowler and his team. Since then all they have done is hold each other, light touches of fingers and lips ghosting over the other’s skin; the **_need_** for each other pulling them together, and both too physically and emotionally exhausted to do anything more.

**_Neal hates it_**.

Hates how _safe he feels_ , how _contented and at peace he feels_. Lying here in Clinton’s arms, _his alpha’s arms_ , he feels whole, like a missing piece of him has been found and slotted into place; _and he shouldn’t need an alpha to feel like this, he shouldn’t need an alpha to make him feel this happy_. It’s everything he hates about being an omega. He knows it isn’t just the bond, it’s too new and not fully formed; it’s his biological nature. It’s the side of himself he always fought, ever since he was a kid at school and he saw how an omega was treated, how they were expected to behave, the jokes about _seat wetting_ ; **_that only happened once damn it_**.

It was close to his second heat; the scent of the alpha in the locker room after sports caught him by surprise. His head lolled back and hit the wall as he sat on the bench and his slick just flowed, right through his shorts.

He could feel his skin burn with embarrassment as the rest of the kids pointed and laughed as he realised what had happened; their comments that there were enough of them to take care of him and give him what he needed as they leered at him, _some outright growling their desires_ , ringing around the locker room until the coach came into find out what all the noise was about.

Only that didn’t help; the coaches own growl of ‘ _fucking needy omega bitch squirting their slick all over the locker room, stinking the place up with their scent, making it difficult for others to control themselves_ ‘ sending him scurrying for the doors and home.

He vowed then he’d prove them wrong; he wasn’t a needy omega, he didn’t need an alpha to take care of him, he’d take care of himself, he’d be independent and successful. No, Neal Caffrey was not gonna be a typical omega homemaker, he wasn’t gonna be bound to some alpha.

Only now he is bound to an alpha; _a typical needy omega lying contentedly in his alpha’s arms_.

\---

Neal wakes to the feel of a hot weight on his back pinning him to the bed, glancing at the clock it’s almost midday.

He’s enveloped in his alpha’s scent and embrace; his own erection trapped between his abs and the bedding as Clinton thrusts his rigid alpha cock between Neal’s slick coated thighs. Neal tries to raise his ass to a position for his alpha to slip into him, but he is firmly pushed back down with a frustrated growl from the mouth licking and gnawing its way around the back of his neck.

“ ** _No!_** “ Clinton snaps at him, “We _can’t_ , not until we know if you’re already pregnant or you’re able to take contraceptives.”

“I’ll risk it,” Neal groans in frustration, he can’t recall being this horny outside of being in heat.

“ ** _No, Neal_** ,” Clinton doesn’t sound so sure of that, he sounds like he wants to risk it as much as Neal does, “not until we get you tested, we can't get that done for another week. Until then,” Clinton slides his hands up over Neal’s chest, rakes his nails over his nipples then pinches and twists them causing Neal to buck back into him gasping as his cock twitches untouched and his thighs try to grab his alpha’s shaft speared between them, “we play safe.”

They both groan in frustration as the ringtone from Clinton’s cell phone indicates that it’s Peter calling.

Neal keens at the loss as Clinton pulls away from him to answer his phone.

“Jones.”

“Uh-uh. Okay. Thanks, Sir. We’ll see you in four weeks I guess.”

Neal looks at his alpha, his naked, hard-bodied alpha, and he had being going to ask him what the call was about when Clinton looks at him and catches him licking his lips.

“That was Peter,” Clinton says as he stalks towards the bed.

“I guessed that,” Neal’s gaze is fixed on the body of his alpha coming towards him, his own body preparing the way for something that Clinton has already said he won’t do.

“We have two weeks bonding leave, starting immediately,” Clinton pushes Neal back flat against the bed as he scrapes his teeth over Neal’s nipples and licks his way up his chest.

“Two weeks?” Neal gasps, “I thought you said ‘see you in four weeks’,” the needy moan escaping him as Clinton bites at his collar bone.

“I did, I’ve been suspended for four weeks for attacking Fowler; it runs concurrent with the bonding leave.”

“What?” Neal jerks up, nearly head-butting his alpha, “When did you attack Fowler? Why?”

Clinton growls in frustration as he sits back astride Neals’ lap.

“You’re not the only one coming to terms with his own nature now that we’re bonded,” Clinton looks at Neal with a wry smile, he cups the side of Neal’s face with his hand, sliding his thumb over his lips, “Last night when Fowler said that you were gone, that you didn’t want to remain bonded I apparently lost control. The next thing I knew Peter and another agent were pulling me off of Fowler.” The smile is gone from Clinton’s lips.

“I thought you were more controlled than that,” Neal tries to make it sound light-hearted, but Clinton’s mood is too serious.

“Not when it comes to you, not when our bond is still forming and he was threatening it, trying to break it. My alpha nature I mostly keep under wraps, I have to so that I can follow orders; it isn’t easy for me to be told what to do when I want to take the initiative, take control, but I have to do what Peter or Hughes tell me. Now with you, I’m your alpha, you’re my bond-mate; I need to know you’re safe, I need to know that you’re happy and that I am providing for you. That’s my instinct, my nature. Last night Fowler told me I wasn’t doing any of that, I felt like I’d failed you and we hadn’t even started.”

The sound of the door opening startles them both.

Clinton rolls off of Neal, turning him so that he is lying flat on his stomach on the bed and his own body is covering Neal. The both look up, Clinton can’t suppress the possessive growl he emits at the sight before them.

“ ** _Naked Demi-suit_** , unhand him,” Mozzie takes a defensive stance, his arms held outstretched with edge of his hands showing to Clinton and Neal, “I am a dan-ranked practitioner in several martial arts, and I will defend Neal’s honour.”

Neal drops his head down, his forehead on the bed; clearly the universe must be screwing with him, because his alpha isn’t getting to; even if he did intended to.


	4. Chapter 4

“ ** _Mine_** ,” Clinton snarls at the strange little man with the glasses standing there staring at him as he lays across Neal, protecting his omega; his bonded mate.

Mozzie doesn’t move.

“You don’t need to protect my honour Mozzie,” Neal protests in frustration, “Clinton is my alpha; _we’re bonded_.” _Part of that frustration is admitting to Mozzie that he’s bonded to an alpha; and the fact that the alpha he is bonded to is one of the FBI agents from the team lead by ‘Mr Suit’_.

The open mouthed stare that is now facing Neal and Clinton conveys the shock that Mozzie can’t quite voice.

\---

Mozzie is sitting in a café with a glass of ‘ _Chateau la Rose du Pin 2005_ ‘; it’s a respectable Bordeaux, a medium bodied Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Cabernet Franc blend, with a deep plum flavour. _It’s a large glass; he_ ** _needed_ a large glass**.

He had gone to Neal’s apartment to tell him the information he had found on Kate; only to be surprised to find _a naked alpha demi-suit_ with _a naked Neal_ under him. Mozzie’s first thought was that the alpha was forcing himself in Neal, trying to initiate a heat and create a bond; tying Neal to him and the FBI. Neal’s words dispelled that thought, ‘ _Clinton is my alpha; we’re bonded_ ‘.

The words had shocked him; he knew that Neal had no wish to become bonded to anyone, not even a beta never mind an alpha. _Not after the last time_.

He retreated to the other room and sat at one of the chairs around the table waiting on Neal and the alpha making themselves _more presentable_ ; that is to say not naked and leaking horny pheromones everywhere. They emerged from the bedroom wrapped in bathrobes. 

The words were out of Mozzie’s mouth before he realised.

“ ** _Seriously_** , you’re bonded to an alpha, _even after las_...,” he caught himself, berated himself for such a careless mistake in front of junior G-man, “after everything you said about never wanting to be bonded, _ever_.” _Again_ was left unsaid, but both Mozzie and Neal knew it was there; Mozzie hoped that the agent hadn’t caught his slip, but one look at him left him knowing that he had; but he didn’t mention it, neither did Neal. Instead both Neal and the demi-suit, _Neal’s alpha_ , and that thought _almost_ made him choke on his glass of Bordeaux **_and_** was going to take some getting used to, explained how they had become bonded.

**_Of course it had conspiracy written all over it._ **

Neal and the junior G-man are left alone in a snowbound cabin when Neal _just happens_ to go into heat, even though he had his suppressant shot only days before. They’re respective biology drawing them, forcing them, together.

Mr Suit himself is investigating what happened with Neal’s suppressant. _He won’t be the only one_.

Mozzie wonders when he’s going to get time alone with Neal to let him know about Kate. _Will Neal still be concerned with finding her? More than that, what does Neal’s bonding to the demi-suit mean for their own friendship, and professional relationship?_

He had asked if they had thought about breaking the bond. That had earned a growl from junior and flash of fear in Neal’s eyes; Mozzie could understand Neal’s reaction, once was probably more than enough.

Junior’s reply left Mozzie with a slight grudging respect for him.

“I may not have intended to bond with Neal, but now that we are bonded I will not abandon him,” he takes Neal’s hand in his, “between us we will make this work, _I will be the alpha he needs_.”

As he drains the glass of Bordeaux a Midori Koto quote is called to Mozzie’s mind, ‘ _Honour isn’t about making the right choices. It’s about dealing with the consequences_ ‘.

\---

_Clinton is torn in two._

He needed to go back to his apartment to get a change of clothes, they also needed to go out to sign the registration papers that solemnises their bond, and they needed to go out at some point in the next week to get pregnancy tests for Neal, or have a blood test performed by his doctor. But, he didn’t want to take Neal out of his apartment, _he didn’t want other people touching or brushing against his omega, getting their scent on him, didn’t want them looking at him and getting ideas that they shouldn’t have. He wanted to keep Neal here, wrap himself around him and bury himself deep inside and_...

He needed to get some control on his growing jealousy and possessiveness _; but he still needed people to know that Neal was his omega, and they couldn’t have him_. He wants his collar around Neal’s neck, and he wants the tracker removed from his ankle. The tracker that gives Peter Burke control of Neal; Neal works as Peter’s CI, but he isn’t Peter’s, Neal is his omega and that makes Clinton responsible for Neal. The tracker _needs_ to be removed.

He knows that this spike in his possessiveness is related to the fact that Neal was bonded before, that some other alpha **_touched, and fucked and tied to his bond-mate_**. That they _used him_ and then _discarded him_. He worked that much out after Neal’s friends _almost_ comment, and Neal’s reaction. It explains a lot about why Neal so easily believed that he would not want to remain bonded. Whoever Neal had been bonded to must have forced the breaking of the bond, _and really Clinton can’t imagine why anyone would do that; can’t imagine how they could go through that, he knows how he felt after only a few hours_.

The fact that there is no record of Neal being bonded concerns him, there is nothing to show that an alpha bonded to him and that either of them chose to break the bond; every alpha and omega bonding is supposed to be recorded. He won’t ask Neal about it, he’ll wait until Neal is ready to tell him; **_then he’ll rip the other alpha apart_**.

_Neal is nervous._

He was fine until Mozzie showed up unexpectedly; which wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Mozzie so it probably should have been expected that he would show up unexpectedly.

Mozzie took the news that Neal was bonded to Clinton better than Neal thought he would, but that could just have been because of the alpha in the room. His unguarded comment about Neal being bonded ‘ _even after last..._ ‘ was definitely picked up by Clinton, Neal knows his alpha caught the comment, but until he brings it up Neal doesn’t intend to mention it. He feels he should explain, _but he can’t; he can’t talk about it_.

If that wasn’t enough Mozzie’s little reminder of the fact that _they hadn’t intended to bond, and that they hadn’t been in a relationship and don’t know that much about each other or know if they have anything in common, and have they even discussed where they are going to live or will the alpha just decide_... 

Yeah, Neal was feeling fine up until all of that.

They don’t know much about each other, outside of the working with Peter, and _what if they don’t have any interests in common? What if all they have in the way of a relationship is really good, hot, satisfying, sex? Will that be enough for his alpha? What if Clinton wants him to move to his apartment? Neal knows he wants to stay here, he’s happy here_.

The panic he feels rising is so alien to him it takes a moment for him to recognise it for what it is, a panic attack. He doesn’t do panic attacks, it’s not conducive to pulling a con.

The firm hand on the back of his neck and the alarmed call of “Neal” brings his focus to the concerned face of his alpha staring at him. Neal burrows into the crook of Clinton’s neck and clings to him.

“I don’t want to move, I like living here,” blurted out without thought.

“Okay,” his alpha replies, his hold on Neal comforting as one hand soothingly rubs his back in a circular motion, “we’ll make it work.”

\---

The blood test for the bond had already been carried out at headquarters before they were questioned by OPR; and the results forwarded to the Department of Alpha-Omega Bond Registrations, along with the paperwork to record their bond. Any bond with an alpha or an omega required that the bond was registered with the department.

All Clinton and Neal need to do is sign the documents, with two witnesses; Clinton called Peter and asked if he and Elizabeth could meet them at the AOBR to act as their witnesses. Once the documents are signed and witnessed then he and Neal are legally recognised as bond-mates; for an alpha or omega same-sex bond-mates couple it gives them the same rights as a heterosexual married couple. Clinton is making sure that Neal and he have that protection.

They take a cab to Clinton’s apartment first, he really does need a change of clothes. It might only be a ten minute taking of vows and a five minute signing and witnessing of signatures, but he wants to look like he can take care of his omega; and a crumpled suit and shirt that he wore for most of the previous day doesn’t give the right impression. He needs to look nearly as good as his Neal does in a Devore.

\---

Neal paced around his alpha’s apartment, waiting for him to come back out of, what he assumed was, the bedroom. They were going to sign the omega bond registration papers; **_now_**. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest; doing this, signing those papers, made all of this more real, he was a bonded omega, and Clinton was his alpha. The bond was already there, growing stronger the more they interacted with each other; signing some papers shouldn’t make any difference, but... it seems so final, like he’s giving up being Neal Caffrey and admitting that everyone was right about him, _he’s just another needy omega that was waiting for an alpha to claim him_.

Clinton didn’t ask Neal about it, he told him that was where they were going and what they were doing. _It wasn’t like there was a choice in the matter anyway_. Either they affirmed they were bonded and registered the bond or they broke the bond and registered that the bond no longer existed. The only reason his previous bond is not on record is that no-one who knew about it wanted it recorded. The blood work and papers have already been filed with the AOBR this time.

For most people this is something that they do after months of courtship, of getting to know each other. It’s something that he never saw in his own future; and he’s sure that Clinton didn’t plan on doing it just because he got trapped in a cabin with some omega going into heat and spent three days fucking them.

Clinton’s choosing the collar when they get there; Neal hopes he gets some say in the collar his alpha puts around his neck, he wants something that will go with the suits.

\---

They are sitting in an ante-chamber off the office, in the Department of Alpha-Omega Bond Registrations, where they will take their vows and sign the registration papers. An hour ago the officials went over the papers with them, the results of the blood work that showed the changes indicating they were bonded, and took more blood to verify the results. They said the results of that should be in about an hour and then they would continue. It occurs to Neal they don’t have their own vows to make, so they’ll need to use the standard ones.

“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth asks him, it draws his attention back to her; away from his alpha talking with Peter a few feet away. He wonders what they are talking about, both of them looking tense.

“ _Fine_ ,” even to his own ears his voice sounds a little strained, “a little nervous I guess; not every day a guy registers his bond to an alpha,” he tries for light-hearted, the laugh and smile at the end of his words not quite reaching the surface.

“Sweetie, of course you’re gonna be nervous,” she lays a hand on his knee as she smiles at him, “you haven’t had the chance to really get to know your alpha before you and he formed the bond. It’s gonna take time to get used to living with him, but Clinton’s a good man, you and he will be fine together.”

Before he can reply the door to the main office opens and they are beckoned in.

“I, Clinton Jones, take you, Neal George Caffrey, as my omega.  
To have and to hold from this day forward.  
I promise to be true to you, to cherish you, and to share my thoughts, hopes and dreams with you.”

“I, Neal George Caffrey, accept you, Clinton Jones, as my alpha  
I give to you my unending love and devotion.  
I promise to love, honour and obey you from this day forward and for the rest of my life.”

Clinton locks the stainless steel collar around Neal’s neck above the line of his shirt collar, it locks at the front and the matching O-ring attachment slides over the small screw lock making the collar look like a seamless band of metal fifteen millimetres wide.

They sign the register and Peter and Elisabeth witness. It’s official. Neal Caffrey is a claimed omega, Clinton Jones is his alpha. It’s written there in black and white, and is electronically working its way through every government system.

They arrange for the pregnancy test on the way home, the blood test that checks the level of hCG; but they can’t do the blood test for another week at least. Neal isn’t sure he can wait that long to have sex, to feel the swell of his alpha inside him; _and that lack of control is so unlike him, that level of neediness_. He’s just going to have to be persuasive. Something he is sure he can do.


	5. Chapter 5

Mozzie ducks into one of the unlocked rooms as he sees Mr Suit round the corner at the end of the corridor.

He’s at the medical centre the agent takes or rather used to take, he mentally corrects himself, Neal to when he was due his shot of heat suppressants. It will be up to junior G-man, _Neal’s alpha_ , whether Neal goes back on the heat suppressants or not and to arrange the shots for him.

Mozzie came here to look for evidence of foul play and a cover-up in connection with Neal’s lack of suppressed heat that has resulted in him being at the end of junior G’s leash. Neal was told that G-man senior was looking into the heat suppressant issue, Mozzie is checking that he isn’t just covering up his own involvement. After all it will suit the suit to have Neal collared by one of his own team.

He listens at the door as Suit and the administrator of the centre walk past; he clearly hears the click-clack of her heels on the hard flooring.

“I can assure you Agent Burke, that it is unheard of for an omega to become immune to the heat suppressant,” the administrator, Doctor Ashley Williams is saying, “as I said to your colleague when he asked about that possibility earlier, so I checked for any known instance of the heat suppressants becoming ineffective for an omega over time. It just doesn’t happen.”

“My colleague?” Peter asks, he knows that no-one else from the bureau is here investigating this.

“Yes, the consultant you have working on this investigation with you into matter, Mr Haversham.”

“Ah, Haversham, is he still here?” Mozzie can hear the change in the Suit’s voice, the sudden lift in excitement.

“Yes, I left him in my office when I came to reception for you.”

This was why Mozzie was trying to make it out of the building before the lady doctor and the suit got back to her office; as happenstance would have it the first route he had taken had led to an alarmed window, there was a surveillance camera fixed on the length of the corridor and he didn’t have time to deal with that and the alarm on the window. Doubling back he had almost made it to the far corridor when they had rounded the T-junction where the corridor to reception joined the corridor of offices. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to find any useful information in her office.

As he hears them make their way round corner to her office he makes his move to exit the building, sure that he kept himself off the security cameras and that the suit didn’t see him.

\------

“Fuck!” Neal is staring at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He’s only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, and his alpha’s collar. The steel of the collar around his neck glinting in the light. Over the last week and a half he’s gotten used to the collar, and to shaving with it sitting high on his neck like it does; always showing above the collar of his shirt. The tracking anklet has been removed, it’s no-longer needed; not now that he is bonded to Clinton. Besides, Clinton has told him there is a GPS transmitter in the collar, and as his alpha he’s the only one that gets to track where Neal is.

Neal runs a hand through his damp hair, dropping his head down taking his gaze to his stomach; a hand ghosting over the flat expanse of skin. The appointment for the outcome of the pregnancy test had been yesterday. The confusion of Clinton’s emotions slamming into him across their bond when the doctor told them the results.

_“Given the circumstances of your bonding I’m not sure whether I’m about to give you good or bad news,” the doctor began as he sat on the other side of his desk from them, both Neal and Clinton felt the apprehension of the other through their growing bond as it ramped up at the doctor’s words, “Mr Caffrey you’re blood tests show an increase in hGC levels that would be consistent with you being with child.”_

_The pride and elation that were flowing through the bond from his alpha hit Neal before he had fully processed what the doctor was saying. Those feelings were quickly replaced by the doctor’s next words, the fear and concern hitting Neal just as strongly._

_“As the bonding was unplanned, and the heat unexpected there are options available to you should you wish to terminate the pregnancy.” The doctor looked over the rim of his glasses as he spoke to Neal, glancing between Neal and Clinton._

The words had taken Neal right back to a similar conversation as he sat in another doctor’s office with Kate beside him. It had been a week after he had gone into heat and the bond with Adler had been formed, the longing tearing at his emotions, Mozzie knew this beta who was a doctor and would keep everything off the record and unofficial.

_“... given the circumstances and that the alpha isn’t present, that the bond is being broken, I would advise that you consider termination of the pregnancy,” she looked at him and Kate with such pity, it was more than Neal could stand, “the chances of carrying to term when going through the longing is exceptionally remote, and carrying the child of the alpha whose bond is being broken will only make the effects of the longing more severe.”_

_“No,” Neal was adamant, no matter that his voice croaked and sounded weak, that he felt like a wreck; he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t take a life that was growing inside him._

Four weeks later Neal suffered severe back and abdominal pains, when he saw the blood he knew the life was gone.

“Neal?” Clinton’s concerned voice brings Neal back from his thoughts, back to the present.

“Sorry,” Neal looks over at his alpha, “I was just lost in thought,” he instantly feels the worry his words cause in Clinton.

“Is that something you want to consider,” Clinton’s words are cautious, “to terminate the pregnancy?”

“ ** _No_** ,” Neal barks, “ ** _I’d never consider that!_** “ The look flickers across his alpha’s eyes is brief, but enough to that Neal knows Clinton has realised that he was lost in his memories connected to incident that Mozzie let slip, that he is going to have to tell Clinton something of what happened before.

With Neal, and Clinton, confirming that they don’t want the pregnancy terminated the doctor runs through the results of the routine blood tests and other examinations; everything is looking fine at this stage. An appointment for a check-up in two weeks is made.

When they got home Clinton didn’t ask, he just looked at Neal expectantly. Neal recognised he had to tell him, to confirm what Clinton already knew from earlier.

So he told him how while working on a con he had gone into heat, how the alpha that was the mark had switched his suppressant, had known who Neal was and what he was doing, that when Neal went into heat the alpha mated with him, bonded to him and throughout Neal’s heat had told him that he would be as far from Neal as possible and breaking the bond once the heat was over.

Neal told him how Kate and Mozzie had helped him through the longing, the weeks of pain, of needing and of heartache; told him when he found he was pregnant he didn’t have an abortion, despite the doctor’s recommendation. Then, when he lost the baby, how Kate and Mozzie helped him cope with that too.

Clinton had a lot of questions, about how the bonding was kept off the public records as any doctor he saw to get help with the longing, with the pregnancy should have reported the bonding. He held Neal through the whole story, his voice soft as he asked his questions and prodded for more information. He soothingly rubbed Neal’s back as Neal sat on his lap, his head resting against Clinton’s shoulder. Neal answered everything; _everything except who the alpha was_.

His eyes raise back to the mirror; in nine months, roughly, he will be giving birth to his alpha’s child. It isn’t the direction Neal expected his life to be going, bonded to an alpha and pregnant with his child, but he feels strangely resigned to, _no that isn’t the right words_ , he feels _contented by_ the fact.

\------

Clinton lay on the bed waiting on his bond-mate to finish showering in the bathroom. The thought resonated with him, **_his bond-mate_** , **_his omega_** , Neal was his and wore his collar around his neck; _and Neal was carrying their child_.

Understanding what the other alpha had done to Neal, _forcing the bond on him with the sole intention of breaking it_ , only strengthened Clinton’s resolve to show him how an alpha should be towards his bonded omega mate.

As Clinton watched Neal walk towards their bed, the collar locked around his neck, he couldn’t stop the rumbling growl of satisfaction at the sight. It was then that the thought occurred to him _he had not told his family that he was now bonded_ , or that _his bond-mate was pregnant_. _He was going to have to tell his mom that she was going to be a grandmother_.

Neal was confused by the sudden feeling of dread flowing through the bond from his alpha.

“Clint what’s wrong?” Neal asks, his brow knitted in confusion as he looks down at his alpha laying back on the bed.

“I just realised,” Clinton says looking up at his omega mate, “It’s only two weeks until Christmas, I haven’t told my family that I’m living here now, and I haven’t told them that I’m bonded; I haven’t told my mom that she’s gonna be a grandmother. I don’t want the first time you meet any of them to be Christmas Day; that will be stressful enough.”

Neal crawled onto the bed over his alpha’s body, his knees either side of Clinton’s hips as he straddles his alpha’s body. He leans down, pressing their lips together, smiling into the kiss before drawing back.

“Are your family gonna hate me?” Neal asks, the slight worry seeping into his voice, “for trapping their alpha son into a bond he didn’t want with my omega heat and pheromones addling his brain so he couldn’t think.”

“They will find you wonderfully charming and love you almost as much as I do,” the alpha answers. He captures Neal’s lips in a biting kiss as he rolls him over onto his back, stretching himself out on top of his mate as he sets out to prove to Neal that he has no regrets in being bonded to him.

\------

Peter and Diana had gone through all the evidence they had from the clinic.

Neal was not the only omega that had gone into heat after they received their suppressants from the same batch at the same clinic. There were nine others.

The suppressant was packaged in boxes of twelve. The clinic kept very precise records of the usage of the medication. Before the clinic closed the day before Neal received his shots a fresh box of suppressant was opened, batch number 132-89A1, two vials of the suppressant were used.

The next day Neal was the fourth omega to receive their suppressant shot that day, he and the three omegas before him received their shots from batch number 312-89A1. If it was one omega whose record showed that they had received their shot from batch number 312-89A1, or 132-89A1, then Peter may have considered that the nurse giving the shot had recorded the number wrongly.

There was also the fact that an hour was missing from every surveillance camera at the clinic for the night prior to Neal’s appointment.

Peter knew it wasn’t enough, everything that he and Diana had been able to gather was nothing more than circumstantial, but it looked to him as though someone had disabled the cameras, gotten into the clinic, replaced the box of suppressant with another that they mislabelled the batch number on, and had taken two vials to make it look like the same batch.

Now he was sounding like a conspiracy theorist, even if it was only in his own head; he couldn’t take any of this to Hughes. There just wasn’t enough.

He needed to talk with _Haversham_. Maybe Neal’s friend had found something more while he had been snooping around the clinic, not that it would be anything he could legally use; but it may give him a place to dig up some evidence legally.

\------

Mozzie was in over his head. He had to get out of the apartment; it wasn’t that he was worried about the owner finding him. _The owner was dead_.

While he was at the clinic Mozzie had noted that security was handled by Sentinel-One Security, that two guards would be on the premises overnight watching the feed from the cameras and occasionally patrolling the corridors. He decided he should pursue that line of inquiry.

At the offices of SOS, he couldn’t help the snort of derision, the logo and tag-line, and the décor, everything just made the company seem... less than a reputable security firm, he found that Karl Thornton had been one of the guards working the clinic’s night shift that week along with a new guy that had started _that week_ when Peter Robertson, who normally worked with Karl, quit unexpectedly.

The new guy, Jake Arnott, quit mid-week after Neal had gotten his shot of the not-supressant.

Karl was known to be a bit of a gambler, and some of the other rent-a-cops at SOS, when he finally got them talking, thought that Karl owed big.

Jake Arnott it turned out had disappeared, none of the details SOS had on him turned out to be real; _how had a security firm not picked up on that_?

That left Mozzie with the only option being finding out more about Karl Thornton.

Which is how Mozzie finds himself in Karl’s bedroom; looking at a dead, naked, guy with an alpha cock dildo in his ass, the knot expanded -- it’s the only reason Mozzie can think of it staying in place -- surrounded by bottles of cheap booze, packets of little blue pills, a piece of thin rubber tubing around his bicep and a needle sticking out of him.

Mozzie recognises this for what it is; _this is a scene that has been staged_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in updating this. I wish I could say that the next chapter will be soon, but while I am still working on this, and it will be completed, it is taking second place in the scheme of my current writing priorities where my Teen Wolf stories have taken over my muse.
> 
> I don't intend that it takes another five months for the next chapter to posted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post another chapter of the story.
> 
> I haven't abandoned it; I will complete the story, it's just my other stories have taken over and demand more of my attention, but I will complete this story, and have plans for more in the series (if people still want read them).
> 
> o o o 0 0 0 O O O 0 0 0 o o o

Neal stares across the table, watching as Mozzie brings the glass of merlot to his lips, his own hand curled around the glass of iced water.  He can’t… it’s just… what Mozzie is asking him to do wouldn’t have been problem a little over a month ago, but now?  There is simply no way he can do that.

 

“I can’t,” as soon as the words leave his lips he can see the disbelief in his friends eyes, the downward curl of his mouth, “I have to tell Clint what you’ve told me; I can’t keep that from him.”

“Are you trying to get me arrested?” Mozzie exclaims, his startled wide-eyed expression peeking out from behind the black rim of his glasses.

“Mozzie, you just asked me to use my access at the bureau to look into some guy’s death that you think could be related to the switching of the suppressants that lead to my heat, and that you think the guy was murdered as part of a plot, purely to ensure that I went into heat,” Neal’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, “I think I could ask the same question.”

“You can’t tell suit or demi-suit, they could both be in on it, this smells entirely like a government cover-up,” Mozzie was up out of his chair, hands gesticulating wildly.

“ **No** , _no way is Clint involved in any cover-up,_ ” his voice rising with the stress caused by _the almost physical pain_ that Neal felt at the suggestion of _his bond-mate, **his alpha**_ , being involved in plot that caused him to go into heat.

“Is that collar around your neck cutting off the flow of flow of blood or oxygen to your brain?  Because it’s clearly affecting your ability to think rationally.”

 

The murderous glare that Neal throws in Mozzie’s direction could kill their years of friendship.

“I think you need to leave, Clint will be back soon,” Neal coolly answers.

 

\----------

 

He had felt the tension before he returned to their home; he could feel the remains of it even now, mixed with a burning anger.  It flowed along the bond between them and Clint knew who was the responsible for causing his mate to feel this way.

 

“What has Mozzie done?” he asked looking across the room as he set the bags of groceries down on the other side if the table.  Neal looked up from his laptop at him from the chair he sat on across from where Clint stood unpacking the bags.

“What makes you think he’s done anything?” Neal asked.  Clint just looked at him, conveying that he knew his mate was not so naïve as to believe that he bought that.

“Have you told your mom that you’re bonded?” Neal asked, Clint knew he was attempting to deflect the question.

“No,” he sighed, he knew he was going to have to, and soon, it was nearly Christmas and he was expected at the family home on Christmas Eve, “But I will, soon; _now_ , back to Mozzie, I know something upset you.”

 

Neal really didn't want to talk about it, he looked back down at his laptop, ignoring Clint’s gaze.  He wants to find some way to tell him what Mozzie found out, but without getting Mozzie in trouble; and without telling him what he insinuated that clearly upset him enough that his alpha felt it through their still forming bond.  Just not now.

 

“Neal,” he feels Clint’s hand cupping the back of his neck, squeezing gently; the comfort of it draining his anxiety.  His alpha clearly worried enough that they were talking about it now.

 

\----------

 

Neal is leaning back against Clint’s chest, the cooling water lapping at him as his alpha’s hands caress over his chest.  Clint suggested the warm bath to relax him, after he had told Clint everything Mozzie had told him.

 

Though he **_didn’t_** mention that Mozzie had asked him to look into it, and he **_may_** have just said that Mozzie had **_acquired_** the information that Karl Thornton maybe related to switching of the heat suppressants, and that Jake Arnott, who had disappeared, seemed to have been using a fake identity.  Mozzie thought that Thornton’s death was suspicious, given Arnott’s disappearance, and so did he.

 

Of course his alpha hadn’t believed that was all that Mozzie had talked about, there wasn’t anything he had said that would account for him being so anxious that it leaked through their bond.  So he had to tell him about the conspiracy theory that Mozzie had of the FBI being involved, and that Mozzie thought Peter or Clint were in on it.  Clint knew that was the cause of his anxiety.  Clint called Peter, passing on the information about the possible suspicious death and person of interest ‘Jake Arnott’; he left out that theory of both of them being involved.

 

Now though as Clint’s touch soothes away Neal’s worries all he can think is how he is fast becoming the stereotypical omega that he despises.  Submissive to his alpha mate, needy for his touch.  Neal’s first instinct when Mozzie laid out the information he had gathered was to tell Clint; which lead to their argument.  He hates himself for becoming so needy, for giving up his independence; for loving the feel of his alpha’s solid presence and growing to love Clinton more each day.

 

The beeping from the timer in the kitchen tells them that the food should be ready.

“I’ll go check on dinner,” Clint sighs, kissing the back of his head as he rises, adding with growl against his ear, “Not that I really want to move when I have you naked, wet and slippery against me.”  Neal doesn’t mean to let the wanton moan escape his lips, or to become _so…_ pliable in Clint’s arms as he rises from the tub, pulling Neal up with him.  The smack to his ass, and the nip at his ear, arouses him as Clint breathes against his ear, “Later, we should eat first.”

 

\----------

 

They’re relaxing on the sofa after dinner; Clint enjoying a cold bottled beer, while Neal has a glass of iced water with slices of lemon.  The thought of no wine or coffee for the next eight months is killing him.

 

They didn’t bother dressing after the bath, instead just wrapping themselves in the bathrobes.  Clint having pulled Neal onto his lap is kissing his neck above his collar.  The metal warmed against his skin from never being taken off.  It’s presence so constant that he rarely notices it.

One of the alpha’s hands slips inside Neal’s robe, ghosts up his side, his fingers tracing over the skin of his pectoral muscle, the nail dragging over his nipple, making it swell and harden under his touch.  Neal doesn’t notice as he spreads his legs wider, leans his head back on his alpha’s shoulder as he moans wantonly, his chest thrusting out for more attention.

 

Clint lets loose a low rumble of satisfaction deep in his chest at Neal’s response to his touch.  His fingers pinching tightly on the nub of his omega’s erect nipple; breathing deeply of the scent of his arousal leaking into the cloth of his bathrobe from between his ass cheeks.  He lets the empty bottle fall on the couch beside him and slides his other now free hand along Neal’s leg, resting over his hard shaft, before slipping low to seek source of the sweet intoxication.  His fingers tease at Neal’s puffy slicked entrance as with his other hand Clinton tweaks and pulls on his nipples, eliciting a hiss as Neal’s head rolls back and his legs spread wider.  He feels the want pool in his gut, he needs to take his mate now.

 

“On your knees, on the couch, now,” he barks at Neal as he is pulling the robe from him.  Neal is quickly on his knees, leaning on his arms on the back of the couch.  Clint falls to his own knees behind him, pulling Neal’s ass cheeks apart and breathing in the heady aroma of his omegas arousal.  He drags a finger over the puffy flesh, the tip briefly breaching through the outer rim, and the natural lubricant flows over his finger coating it in Neal’s arousal.  The needy moan as Neal pushes back, wanting to feel him inside as much as Clint wanted to be engulfed in the heat of him, to feel himself gripped in his tightness.

 

He leans in a flicks his tongue over his fingers and Neal's slick coated hole.  Neal’s cock is hard and pulled flat against his abs; while Clint’s own his straining painfully between his legs.  His tongue swipes over the puckered flesh and his fingers delve into the hot cavern of the puffy ring of muscle.  He licks and bites one fleshy globe of Neal’s ass while spanking the other with his open palm; alternating between each cheek while the fingers of his other hand thrust, tease and scissor in his omegas wet tunnel.  The sounds of Neal’s wantonness fanning the flames of his own lustful needs.

 

He lines his cock with Neal’s passage; no need to worry about condoms as he is already carrying their child; and no need for lubricant as despite not being in heat he is wet with want for him.  As he slowly pushes into Neal, his hands slide up his stomach to his chest, grasping at his nipples he pulls, pinches and teases them, causing Neal to whimper and buck against him.

 

Clinton licks and nips along Neal’s back as he twist and pulls on his nipples the sensations making Neal arch back into the fast and furious thrusts as he slams into the grasping ring of muscle.

“Pl… please, Clint… alpha, sir… please,” Neal pleads, his own hard shaft slapping against his taut abs as he rears back onto Clinton’s thrusting shaft, his chest pushed out seeking the torturous nipple play.

“What do you want babe, huh?” he coos into Neal’s ear as he nips at the lobe, pulling a needy whimper from him, “Tell me what you need, you want me to buy those clamps with the sharp teeth to tease you with?” he teases as his nails bite into the puffy nubs of Neal’s nipples; Neal hissing in response as he drives back hard against Clint’s forward thrust.

Clint can feel his knot forming, dragging at the lips of Neal’s entrance.

“Knot… please, alpha, I… I want… I need…” Neal begs; and Clint lunges forward, biting on Neal’s shoulder as he pulls and twists on his already sore nipples; his knot swelling in his omega, in his mate, sending both of them over the precipice.

 

\----------

 

They are lying curled together on the couch later, waiting on Clinton’s knot to go down.

 

Neal can feel Clinton still filling him, he tautens himself around the still swollen knot, pulling and moan from his alpha as his arms tighten their grip around him and he feels swelling inflate within him.

“You’ll only make it take longer,” Clint says from behind him, “Unless you’re looking for another round already _my needy little slut?”_

 

Neal can tell that Clint felt the sudden panic he felt at his words.

“Neal?”  The concern palpable in Clint’s voice, “What’s wrong?”

_ How does he find the words to explain?  How does he tell his alpha that he’s becoming everything he fought so hard against, that there is this part of him that doesn’t mind, that wants to that omega? As long as it is for him. _

“I…” his throat is dry, his voice weak as he fights out the words against the threatening tears, “I don’t want to be a slut; I don’t want to be needy; I want to still be me, but I to be your… I want to…”

“Shh… it’s okay babe,” his alpha says between kisses to his neck and shoulders, “You are still you, you’re still the strong, independent Neal Caffrey; and you are mine.  You’re not _a slut, your mine, and I’m yours.  You need me as much as I need and want you.  Okay?”_

“Okay,” he whispered in reply.

“It’s just what we are and what we need from each other,” Clint continued, “The bond fitting us together, we’re both changing a little; but we are still us.”

 

He could live with that; he was going to have to.  Neither of them had a choice anymore.

 

\----------

 

Clinton slipped out of bed leaving Neal sleeping in a nest of blankets.  His mate had a rough night, he was still fighting his naturally submissive disposition that the bond was pushing him to accept.  Clint knew that it was easier for him to accept the affects their bond was having on him; he had never had an issue with his alpha traits.

 

But Neal had never had an easy time being an omega, and fought to suppress and hide his natural instincts, teaching himself to present as beta.  And really, Clint didn’t want Neal to be so dependent on him that he couldn’t function without him.  But he loved how he reacted to him when they were alone together.

 

He’s pulled from his thoughts at his phone vibrating against the table; he quickly answers before the noise wakens Neal.

“Jones,” Peter’s voice is tense, “We need to talk about what Neal’s little friend has stumbled on, can we meet, alone, in about an hour?”

“Is something wrong?”

“One of the security guards had been snapping pics with his new smartphone to show off the camera; he had a photo of Arnott, and I recognise him.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay; I haven't abandoned the story, I just keep getting distracted by my other stories. Sorry again.
> 
> \--------

There was no way in hell that Clint was leaving Neal alone in the apartment.  Not after the call he just had from Peter.  Between the theories being thrown around from Mozzie, and now Peter finding something that might give partial credence to Mozzie’s hypothesis that Neal’s suppressants had been deliberately replaced…  No, he was keeping his omega on a short leash, _and that thought brought a distracted wanton growl from him_.

 

“Someone is having naughty thoughts,” Neal teases as steps back into the room, water dripping from his still damp hair and running in rivulets down his chest to the towel wrapped around his waist, “Is that why you told me to hurry up in the shower?” he asks with a suggestive smirk as he stalks towards the bed.  Another growl of desire is pulled from Clinton and all thoughts of meeting Peter are almost forgotten.

“No,” he growls out, “We’re meeting Peter for lunch, and to discuss something he’s found after following Mozzie’s… information.”

“But…”

“No buts, this could be important,” he was sure that it was, but didn’t want to say that to Neal until they both had the full story from Peter, “Plus, we have less than a week until Christmas Eve and we still have to get my parents’ presents, and something for Peter and Elisabeth.”

“We?” Neal sounds so unlike himself, and so unsure as he asks.  Clint steps towards him and wraps his arms around him as he rests their foreheads together.

“I figured we would get them a present from the both of us, so we could go and pick them together.”

“Oh.”

“So, let’s get dressed and go meet Peter for lunch.”

 

\------------

 

Clinton holds his hand as they walk from where the cab dropped them to the restaurant for their lunch with Peter as few yards along the street.  It feels colder than the forty-five degrees it’s supposed to be, the wind biting against his cheek, and Neal finds himself leaning into Clinton’s warmth.

 

The restaurant is small and cosy; the warmth a relief from the December chill.  The walls are decorated with holly and ivy; tinsel glittering from every lampshade, and Christmas carols playing in the background.

 

Neal feels a tug on his arm as Clinton pulls him toward the back of the eatery, and then he sees Peter sitting at a booth along the back wall.  When Peter notices him he scowls before schooling his face to neutral.

 

“We were supposed to meet alone,” Peter’s tone showing his irritation despite the softness to his voice.

“I wasn’t leaving my bond-mate alone,” Clinton answers his boss, “Especially not after the implications of your call.”

“Implications?” Neal asks as he slides in the booth opposite Peter, and Clint slides in next to him.

 

Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress coming over to give them a menu and take their drinks order.  While Peter and Clint order a beer, Neal has a Cardamom, Fennel, and Ginger Tea.

 

“So,” Clint says after the waitress has left, “You recognised a picture of Arnott?”

“He used to be Agent Maurice Kenny,” Peter says, sliding his phone across the table to Clint; Neal sees the picture shown on it.

“Used to be?” he asks him.

“He was an OPR agent,” Peter pauses again, and Neal caught the ‘ _was ’; he’s sure Clint did too.  “Until he turned up dead two days ago while investigating an alleged link to the Russian mafia of an agent in Detroit.”_

“You think that OPR switched the suppressants?” Clint asks.

“At the time Agent Kenny was Jake Arnott, Kenny was supposedly on holiday in Hawaii; he and Fowler went through the academy together, but so far there is no evidence of anyone else in OPR being involved.”

“Still, Fowler was pretty pissed when Hughes put the pressure on for Neal to remain on our forgery case instead of going to the OPR for the interview about the jewellery heist; again.”

 

The conversation stopped as the waitress arrived with their drinks and took their food order.  One thought was stuck at the forefront of Neal’s mind.  Mozzie was right, there was a conspiracy, and someone in the FBI was trying to play him.  The only person who he was sure wasn’t involved was his alpha.

 

Clint had been as surprised as he was when his heat hit; he’s certain of that.  He’s a bit hazy on the details.  But he remembers Clint ordering him away from him, and when he checked on him he said not to open the door; not unless he wanted to be mated.  If he had been trying to force a bonding he wouldn’t have risked Neal being strong enough to reject him like that.

 

The evidence points to the OPR.  It was their agent, who is now dead, who was working as the security guard when he was supposed to be on holiday; he was supposed to have been with them to be interviewed about the jewellery heist case when he went into heat, and it was Fowler who convinced him that he should break the bond.

 

But, it was Peter who insisted that Neal was needed on the forgery case in the Adirondack Mountains.  It was Peter who decided to leave Clint and him alone in the cabin, and it was Peter that came to him and persuaded him to remain bonded.  Okay, that last one he didn’t need much persuasion; he knew the hell that breaking a bond was going to put him through, and didn’t really want to go through that hell again.

 

“What would OPR gain by having me bonded to one of their agents?” he asks them; causing Clint to grip his beer tighter as he growls his displeasure at the thought.

“I don’t know,” Peter answers, “I just know we were lucky that you didn’t end up bonded to one of them as we would have lost you unless your alpha gave permission for you to work with my team.”

“So, what’s our next move?” he asks.

“Right now,” Peter admits, “All we can do is keep digging.  But we need to be careful; we don’t want to tip our hand and cause them to erase any trail we might follow.”

 

\------------

 

Nothing really happened with the investigation that Neal or Clinton heard about the rest of that week.  A week that they spent decorating the apartment, buying the tree, and shopping for presents.  Suddenly Neal found himself in the car on Christmas Eve being driven by Clint to spend Christmas with his family.  They were spending the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth with Clint’s family and returning home on twenty-sixth.

 

“I haven’t told them,” Clint says with his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

“Who? And what haven’t you told them?” Neal asks looking across at his alpha, though he can guess; and he doesn’t like what he guesses.

“My folks, I haven’t told them about you, about us.”

“Why not?”  Neal can only think of one reason, “Two weeks ago you said you didn’t want the first time I meet them to be Christmas Day; are you regretting not letting the bond fade?”

“ ** _NO_** , how can you think that?” Clint nearly swerves the car across the lanes as he turns sharply to look at Neal before he focuses back on the road, “We’ve just been busy, and…”

“ ** _We’ve been busy?_** ” Neal doesn’t keep the incredulity out of his tone, “ **Doing what?** ”

“ ** _Bonding_** ,” Clint tersely snaps, “Look, I’m sorry; I know I should have called my parents before now, arranged for us to meet them for lunch at some point in the last week or so, or at least told them about us.  I just thought there was time, and then there wasn’t.”

“I just hope they like the Cranberry, Orange and Walnut cake Elisabeth helped me make,” Neal tries to close off the empathic link between them, he doesn’t want Clint to know that he’s getting nervous now that he knows Clint’s family don’t know about him.  He had Elisabeth help him bake the cake because it’s expected that an omega would provide food at a family gathering.  He could have just bought something to take, but he wanted to make the effort for Clint.

“Don’t do that,” Clint suddenly commands him.

“What?”

“Don’t try to hide your emotions from me; I can feel you closing off from me,” Clint turns to look at him, “It’s like a part of me is fading, even though I know it’s your emotions that I’m not feeling.  So please, don’t.”

He’d already allowed the link to reopen the instant Clint had commanded him; his omega instincts taking over as his nervousness increased and he wasn’t his usual composed self in control of his reactions.  He felt his alpha’s hand grasp the back of his neck.

“I know you’re nervous, I am too, a little, but everything is going to be fine,” Clint reassures him.  With Clint holding him, his palm warm against the back of Neal’s neck he can almost believe it; and his anxiety begins to ebb.

 

When they arrive at Clint’s parents he’s acting his usual confident self, and charming his alpha’s family; but his alpha knows just how nervous and how much of an act the charm is.

 

\------------

 

Neal’s mind is racing; jumping from one train of thought to another as he lays awake in bed next to his alpha.  Clint’s mom had a very detailed plan of what they should have done after his heat; and the small bond mating ceremony with the two of them and witnesses is not it.

 

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Clint says as he snakes an arm around Neal’s waist and pulls him closer, “Just because my mom had a plan of what she would have wanted doesn’t mean you or I need to follow it.”

“It’s just not something I ever wanted for myself,” he says turning to face him, “I mean it is so stereotypical of what an omega is supposed to want, and I never did…”

“I told you, we don’t have to just because my mom wants it…”

“But do you want it?”

“I want whatever you want,” Clint answers, and Neal knows that his alpha is trying to please both of them; and if he really pushed it his alpha would back whatever he chose.  But pleasing his mom would make Clint happy.

 

“Where are we gonna get a bridal gown that will fit me properly, I’ll be showing in a few months; we’d either have to arrange it all real fast or wait until after the baby’s born.  And really, can I wear white now?”

“You can wear whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think your mother will think it’s real unless I’m in a wedding dress.”

 

\------------

 

“Maury was a …”

“He was a loose end and I took care of it,” the vocoder-processed voice says from the other end of the call.

“The bond will be difficult to break now…”

“So we find another way to enlist Mr Caffrey’s assistance in acquiring the music box; just ensure that you don’t become another loose end.”

 

The call disconnects.  Agent Lauren Cruz flips her phone closed and places it back in her pocket.  This case is becoming more than she signed on for.  She is still no closer to uncovering the person behind the voice on the other end of the calls or the significance of the music box.  Or even what music box.  Now an innocent man had been killed, and she wasn’t thinking about Agent Kenny, though Maury should have been behind bars for what he did.

 

She needed help, but just who can she trust?

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay; I haven't abandoned the story, I just keep getting distracted by my other stories. Sorry again.
> 
> This is unbeta'd, and all typos and errors are my own.
> 
> \--------------------

Neal woke curled against Clint’s body and with his alpha’s arms wrapped around him; holding him tightly.

 

They were back home, having returned from Clint’s parents’ house the night before; they didn’t get to leave without making several promises to think about having a proper ceremony, which both he and his alpha promised to do.  He still can’t imagine himself in one of those dresses from the cover of the glossy fashion magazines such as ‘ _Male Omega Brides’, and if they are going to have a formal bonding ceremony it will need to be before he starts to show; there’s no way he wants the line of his suit, because he will be wearing a suit, ruined by a bulging belly._

 

He runs a hand over the taut flat abs of his stomach, wondering when he’ll start to show; he’s not even four weeks yet, and had he and Clint been a regular couple, one that had dated each other before getting together, then they wouldn’t have been telling anyone about the baby for another nine weeks or so.  He’s read on-line that the first twelve weeks of pregnancy present the greatest threat to the developing baby.  Most miscarriages occur before the twelfth week and it’s possible that the greatest danger is about the time at which menstruation would have occurred if fertilisation had not intervened.  Given the situation after the last heat he had, if he had a choice this time he’d have waited before letting people know he was pregnant again.

 

A nip of teeth at his jawline pulls him from his thoughts.

“What’s gotten you so blue?” Clint’s voice rumbles at his ear.

“Just memories,” he answers, his hand absently rubbing over his stomach.  Clint must notice and realise what he’s referring to.

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” Clint murmurs against his neck, mouthing at the skin above his collar, “I won’t let it.”

Neal relaxes against him, enjoying the comfort and attention, when he suddenly needs to flee to the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” Clint’s shouts in panic as he follows him.

“Isn’t it too early for morning sickness?” Neal asks between bouts of nausea from his kneeling position over the toilet pan.

“It usually starts around week six,” his alpha answers as he kneels beside him and soothingly rubs his back, “But I have read it can start earlier, especially for male omegas.”

Neal lets out a groan, before grabbing the sides of the bowl again.

 

\--------------------

 

“The quicker you get yourself dry and get back into the bedroom, the quicker I can give you the present I didn’t take to my parents for you to open,” Clint says as Neal is stepping out of the shower.

 

When Neal returns to the bedroom wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and his ever-present collar there is a small box lying on the bed.  Clint grabs him from behind, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back against his chest; small kisses flitting around his shoulder and the back of his neck.

“I think you’ll like it,” Clint cautiously says.  Neal can sense that Clint is worried about his reaction to the present, whatever it is.  “Open it.”

 

He picks up the box and lifts the top off.  Inside, lying on a white foam cushion is a pair of black metal Japanese clover nipple clamps, connected together by a length of black chain.  There are black rubber serrated inserts where the clamps would grip onto his nipples.

 

Neal’s mind freezes.  His thoughts taken back to his heat, his alpha had played with his nipples a lot, spurred on by Neal’s own reaction to the stimulation.  And Neal knows every time they have had sex as soon as Clint nips, pinches, or teases, his nipples he effectively turns into a wanton sex crazed omega desperate to satisfy his alpha’s, and his own, needs.

He hates how he reacts to his nipples being played with, and the tent that has formed in the towel wrapped around means he can’t deny he loves it too; no matter how much he wants to.  The desire pooling, warm and heavy, in his chest.

 

“Want to try them out now?” Clint asks, “Or after we get back from Peter and Elizabeth’s place?”

“What?” Neal turns his head to face his alpha.

“I asked if you wanted to try them now, or later,” Neal can feel, through their bond and physically, that Clint’s arousal is matching his, “I could attach the clamps to you and have you on all fours on the bed while I open you up and slide in and pound away at your ass, jiggling those clamps so they pull and twist until you clench tight on my knot and I fill you up before slipping a plug in to keep you filled; then you can be sitting at the Burkes with you nipples all tender and your ass plugged and filled with…”

Neal tried to hold back the needy gasp that slipped out and stopped Clint’s rambling fantasy in its tracks.

“After,” he tells Clint, “I can’t… I can’t be like that in front of them.”

“Okay,” Clint turns him in his arms and pulls him tight against him, nuzzling his cheek, “I’m not gonna make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with Neal; believe me, I only want to make you feel good, to make you happy.”

“I do,” and he knows he does; it scares him how sure he is of it, and of how much he wants to make Clint happy too.

“Good,” his alpha growls in his ear, “when we get back from the Burkes, I’m gonna strip you, attach those clamps to your perky nips and tug on that chain as I fuck and knot your ass; and then I’m gonna keep playing with those clamps on your nipples all the time we’re tied.”

 

Neal buries his face against his alpha’s neck to try and muffle the wanton moan that is pulled from between his lips.

 

\--------------------

 

Neal is distracted.

 

His thoughts keep returning to the present waiting in its box on the bed back home.  He keeps wondering what it will feel like when Clint allows the black serrated rubber of the clamps to bite on the sensitive flesh of his nipples…

_ How tight will the clamps close on his nipples? _

_ How heavily will the chain pull on them? _

_ How hard will Clint pull on the chain? _

_ Will he really keep the clamps connected to him until his knot goes down enough for him to withdraw? _

 

“Neal?” he’s suddenly aware that Elizabeth is calling his name; actually that everyone is looking at him expectantly.  He must have been asked something and he missed it.

“Sorry,” he smiles at her, “I…”

“Clearly had something on your mind,” Peter cuts in.

“Probably worrying about my mom’s insistence that we should have a traditional Alpha Omega Bonding ceremony,” Clint answers, obviously sensing what he had been thinking about from the grin he gives him, “Even though I have said that if he doesn’t want to we don’t have to, and even if we have the ceremony he doesn’t have to wear a dress.”

“Ooh,” Elizabeth exclaims, “I organised the ceremony for a couple recently, I still have the brochures and omega bridal magazines…” and she is running off upstairs before he can say anything.

 

"If you're not actually planning to have a traditional ceremony I should go calm my wife down before she gets a full head of steam on planning you the perfect day,” Peter says looking at Clint.

“We already had the civil ceremony, so we’re legally registered…”

“But your mom will be really disappointed if we don’t have the traditional big…”

“I’m more concerned about your happiness than my mom’s,” Clint interrupts him, “Besides, you don’t want to wear a dress…”

“He wouldn’t have to,” Elizabeth calls out as she comes back into the room, a pile of magazines in hand, “There’s this outfit I tried to persuade my client to wear, but he was set on having a dress, even though they never look as good as they do on the androgynous male models they use for the magazine shoots, so this is what Neal should wear.”

 

The picture she is pointing to is of model wearing an off white and blue raw silk sherwani, it’s embroidered on the front, the collar, shoulder and cuffs.  The jacket is long, reaching down past the knee.

“Achkans and sherwanis are worn by many Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi grooms for their wedding, and they are beginning to be worn here by male omegas that don’t want the feminine dresses they have typically been forced to wear, and don’t want the sombre morning suits usually worn by alphas and betas,” Elizabeth explains, “I think it would be perfect for you.”

 

By the time Neal and Clint leave the Burke’s that evening it’s been agreed that Elizabeth will help plan their more traditional ceremony; one that both of them will be happy with, but also one that is traditional enough to please Clint’s mother.

 

\--------------------

 

Clint has him on all fours on the bed, his legs spread wide and the clamps biting into his nipples.  They aren’t harsh, just on the edge of his pain-pleasure limit, and every tug or jerk of the chain has him moaning.

 

Clint has set mirrors angled around him.  He tried to ignore them, to look anywhere that he wouldn’t catch his reflection.

“No,” his alpha commanded him, “Look at how hot you are, how good you look like this.”

His eyes snapped back to the mirror in front of him, he could see his eyes blown wide and dark with need.  Trying to glance away he only caught the reflection from one of the other mirrors; saw Clint’s fingers slide up his perineum and push his slick back into his gaping hole.

 

His eyes fixed on that spot; watched as Clint stood behind him and teased him with the head of his cock rubbing against the slick-coated and relaxed ring of muscle, before he pushed forward and Neal opened easily, stretching around the thick hard flesh of his alpha’s cock.

 

As Clint filled him he reached around Neal’s chest and tugged on the chain, the jolt of pain making Neal clench around the base of his cock where his knot is already forming.  Neal drops his head, moaning his arousal as he pushes back as if trying to take more of his alpha inside.

Clint holds tightly to the chain connecting the nipple clamps as he quickly begins to fuck; the pain making Neal gasp and buck back, chasing his alpha’s cock, as he leaks and drips from his hard cock.

“Are you gonna come before I’m tied to you, baby?” Clint asks, pulling the chain down towards Neal’s cock, “Come for me, baby.”

Neal can only groan as it pushes him over the edge, making him tighten around the base of Clint’s cock as his knot swells.

 

True to his word, Clint continues to play with Neal’s clamped nipples.  Every teasing pleasurably painful sensation making Neal clench around Clint’s knot.  Keeping them both hard, and tied, for longer than Neal thought possible as he comes again, and again.

 

Neal can hardly focus when Clint does finally withdraw, and Neal is sure he has filled him with more come than during his heat, but he can still see how sated, content, and well fucked he looks in the mirrors.   Clint doesn’t relent, leaving the clamps attached to Neal’s nipples he plays with the come leaking from his ass, running his fingers through it as he scoops it back into Neal’s open hole before he replaces his fingers with a plug and fetches a washcloth to lean them both up.  Only then removing the clamps and teasing the blood flow back into his nipples before they settle under the covers and wrapped in each other’s arms.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested [this](http://www.indianweddingsaree.com/SherwaniProduct/11531.html) is what I saw elizabeth suggesting Neal wear for the ceremony (only blue replacing the red).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Sorry for the long delay between updates, my other stories keep pulling my attention away from this.
> 
>   
>  **  
>  ««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
>  **   
> 

“Catherine the Great had a room, in her palace in St. Petersburg, made entirely out of amber,” Neal explains, “Both the room and the palace were looted during World War II by Nazis.  One of the things they took was an amber music box.”

 

It’s both his and Clint’s first day back in the office after Clint’s weeks of suspension.  What neither of them had expected was to be almost immediately pulled into Hughes’s office and listen while Agent Lauren Cruz explained how she has been working undercover, and that her case was related to corruption within the FBI and OPR.  She hasn’t, so far, been able to track down who is involved, the only ones she is willing to trust regarding her assignment are those in the room; Hughes, Peter, Clint, and Neal.  And only then because she had stumbled on Peter digging into Agent Kenny’s associates and acquaintances, and that Clint and Neal were bonded and the people she was trying to uncover wanted Neal; for the music box.

 

“And I have, in my previous life, searched for that music box, but I don’t have it and I have no idea where it is,” he finishes.

“Damn it,” Cruz curses, “My contact in this shadow agency says that they were told you have the box.”

“He’s not lying!” Clint growls at her, “He doesn’t have the box and he doesn’t know where it is.”

“Who told them I have it?”

“Kate Moreau.”

 

As the name leaves Agent Cruz’s lips Neal feels the chill that settles over him; there’s no way that Kate can be willingly involved with these people.

“What?!” he blurts out, “How is Kate involved in any of this?  And why would she tell them I have the box?  She knows I don’t have it, or know where it is.”

“All I know is that she told them you have the box; that they wanted you out of prison, and they say that she arranged the circumstances for you to be out and tracking her through clues she left you.  However, their plans didn’t quite pan out when you became bonded to Agent Jones.”

 

"Agent Cruz made us aware of her investigation as she believes that they are planning to attempt to kidnap Neal,” a low growl breaks out from Clint’s throat, Neal grabs his hand to try and calm his alpha as Peter continues, “So, as a precaution, we are moving you both to a safe house.”

 

**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»**

 

Neal is sitting in the back of the SUV with Clint, he’s looking through the tinted windows of the vehicle; Clint has a tight hold on his hand, as if he’s afraid to let go.  Neal knows he needs to feel his alpha’s skin; needs that touch to quell the worry that would otherwise be gnawing at him.

“We should reach our destination in about forty minutes or so,” the agent sitting in the front passenger seat says.  Clint nods in acknowledgement.

 

“I should call June and let…” Neal starts to say; suddenly worrying about June, and Mozzie, and how they will worry when he and Clint aren’t home.

“Peter will take care of that,” Clint interrupts him, “He’ll make sure she knows you’re safe.”

“That we’re safe.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be more concerned with your safety than that of the Fed that knotted you and bonded you to him.”

“She’ll want to know you’re safe too; after all you are bonded to me,” Neal smirks at him.  It gets a smile to cross Clint’s lips; the first since their meeting with Peter, Hughes, and Agent Cruz.  The smile quickly vanishes from both their lips.

 

The SUV lurches to the right as a truck slams into the driver’s side and pushes the car into wall blocking the passenger side doors.  Neal is thrown to the right towards Clint, but the seatbelt holds him in place; sharply digging into his shoulder and waist.  The back of Clinton’s head hits hard off the door of doorframe.

 

There are two shots fired quickly into the front of the car, and the back driver side door is yanked open, the seatbelt around Neal is cut and he is being dragged from the car.  He’s disoriented from the crash, but fights against the hands grabbing him and pulling him away from away from his alpha.

“No!” he hears Clint roar from inside the car quickly followed by two more gunshots before he is knocked unconscious.

 

**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»**

 

_ Neal’s not sure where he is, in a hospital of some sort.  He’s standing looking down on the bed with Clint in it, Peter’s standing on the other side beside the monitors that Clint is hooked up to.  Peter turns from the bed and heads to the door. _

_ “Peter, what’s happening?” he asks, but Peter doesn’t reply. _

_ “Come on,” he says to Cruz and Barrigan, “It’s been twelve hours since they snatched Neal shot Jones, and killed the agents in the car.  Let’s not give them time to make another move.” _

 

Neal’s eyes blink awake.

“Hey, how are feeling?” a voice to his right says, the accent isn’t from New York, he turns his head on the pillow and sees a male nurse securing the dressing over the cannula; his eyes follow the tube connected to the needle stuck in his arm up to the clear bag of fluid that is overhead.

“What’s that?” he asks, his eyes fixed on the bag.

“Just something to make sure you’re okay,” the nurse answers, “You’ve been out for a long time, and we want to make sure you’re fine for the flight.”

“Flight?”

“Back to your alpha,” the nurse smiles, “So we want to make sure this stays in place.  Okay?”

“Sure,” Neal replies, something seems off; he isn’t sure why, but he knows he needs to get the needle out of his arm.  Looking around the room he’s not sure how he can do that without being seen given the surveillance camera in the corner of the room.  The nurse sees him notice it.

“It’s just a precaution, for your safety,” he states.

Neal smiles in response; doesn’t believe him.  The ‘something off’ feeling he realises is the dull almost no sense of Clint along their bond.

“Why do I have hardly any sense of Clint?” he asks, disliking the sound of panic in his voice.  The nurse’s eyes widen at his question, before a fake smile crosses his face.

“Don’t worry, Agent Jones is in a hospital in New York, over a thousand miles away, and it been several days since… You just relax, try not to stress, and we’ll soon have you on the plane back to your alpha and everything will be fine.”

“Where am I?”

“Miami, but we’ll be flying you home soon.”

 

Neal doesn’t believe him, but he feels himself slipping into unconsciousness and is unable to do anything to stop it.

 

**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»**

 

Peter looks down at the bed, the beeping from the monitor beside him reassuringly steady.  They’d had to sedate Clinton almost as soon as he came around from the surgery.  The bullet had, purely by luck given the close range, missed hitting anything vital, and from the scene that greeted Peter and his team when they got to the car Clint’s own shot had killed the gunman responsible.

 

The paramedics patched Clint up as best they could, but he was unconscious by the time they arrived at the hospital and rushed through to the operating theatre.  As soon as he had woken and realised that Neal was missing he was trying to get out of bed and hunt down those responsible for taking his Neal.

 

It took all of Peter’s persuasive powers and guile to convince Clint to remain in the bed until they had a location.  It was as this point Clint pointed out that Neal’s collar had a GPS tracking chip that he receive location details from.  Grabbing his phone he started the app and they soon had the co-ordinates of an abandoned airstrip near the Hudson.

 

As soon as Clint had given them the location Peter was lying to him saying that the nurse had to give him a shot of antibiotics to reduce the risk of his stitches from the surgery becoming infected.  The sedative had knocked him out fairly quickly.

 

Peter knew the drive an alpha had to protect their bonded mate; for his junior agent it was far greater than the compelling need that he felt to protect Elizabeth, after all, Neal is an omega not a beta.  But there was no way Clint was in any condition to take part in the operation, and without being sedated there was no way that Clint wouldn’t need to be part of the operation to rescue his bonded omega.

 

As he turned and headed to the door Peter hoped to hell that by the time Clint came around they had Neal at his bedside; otherwise they would have one furious and inconsolable alpha on their hands.

“Come on,” he says to Cruz and Barrigan, “It’s been twelve hours since they snatched Neal shot Jones, and killed the agents in the car.  Let’s not give them time to make another move.”

 

**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»**

 

Neal rolls over in his sleep, folding the tube and stopping the flow of liquid into his arm.  He slow wakens and realises whatever is in the solution is dulling his bond to Clinton; he waits, letting the drowsiness wane before surreptitiously removing the needle from his arm.  As the fogginess recedes and he can think more clearly he’s sure that the unease he felt with the nurse was partly feedback through his bond from Clinton’s worry, and given he the slight feelings of the longing he knows it’s not been days since the crash; the nurse was lying.  He still has the issue of the camera to get around, but the growing feeling that he has to get out of this room, and the hospital, spurs him into action.

 

With the needle taped against his arm as if it was still attached he grabs hold of the drip stand that the bag of fluid is hanging from and wheels it towards the door.  The flaps of the hospital gown open behind him.  He figures he’ll pretend he was looking for the bathroom if anyone stops him.  Pulling the door open he’s caught by surprise.

 

On the other side of the door is not a hospital corridor.  The ‘room’ he was in is nothing more than a staged set with scaffolding against the walls; it seems to be on one side of a large hanger.  It occurs to him now that he never heard any sound like he would expect in a hospital, but for the short time he had been conscious he hadn’t really been listening for them.  Looking around he can see what seems to be an office off to one side; there are two guys rushing out of it and one of them is the nurse that had been in the ‘room’ with him.  Without having any idea where he’s heading he turns to run in the other direction only to come face to face with Agent Fowler holding a gun on him.

 

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Fowler says to him.

“What’s the easy way?”

“You get on the plane and don’t give us any trouble.”

“And hard would be?”

“Your nurse puts the drip back in your arm and wheels your unconscious body onto the plane.”

“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.”

“Not really, but as an incentive I should tell you that Kate is waiting for you on the plane,” Fowler smirks as Neal fails to keep from showing his shock at information, “How about we start moving.”  Fowler’s voice filled with alpha command as he waves the gun in the direction he wants Neal to go, though Neal can’t help but think that Fowler’s ‘alphaness’ is more threat than command; unlike Clint.

“Don’t I get to dress first?”

“You can get dressed on the plane,” Fowler replies between gritted teeth.

 

As they head towards the waiting small plane Neal can see Kate waiting at the top of the stairs by the open door.  The sound of gunfire behind them suddenly grabs their attention, as fowler turns towards the noise Neal crouches down and drives his elbow into Fowler’s crotch then punches him in the face, before the corrupt agent recovers he kicks the gun from his hand and starts to run towards the plane and Kate; he has to explain to her about Clint, needs to know she is okay.

 

“Neal!” Peter’s and Clint’s voices loudly call; he turns briefly to see Diana cuffing Fowler.

“Kate’s on the plane,” he shouts back as way of explanation, his steps halting as he sees Clint standing behind Peter in the hospital gown he was wearing in the bed in his dream earlier.

“Kate?  Moreau?” Peter asks

“Yes,” Neal answers as the plane explodes in a furious fire.

“ ** Kate?!**” Neal roars as he turns to run towards the fireball; his only thought is to get to the plane and pull Kate out.  Peter’s hands grab him, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him back against him.  Neal collapses into his hold, wondering why it wasn’t Clinton’s arms he was being held in.

 

**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»**

 

_ Clint is standing in the middle of mostly empty hanger. _

_ “Don’t I get to dress first?”  Neal’s voice has him turning to look for his omega, he’s standing wearing nothing but an ill-fitting hospital gown. _

_ “You can get dressed on the plane,” Agent Fowler’s snarling pulls his attention and he reaches for his gun only to realise that he too is naked save for a hospital gown. _

_ He runs towards then as Fowler directs Neal towards, he can see a dark haired woman waiting inside.  There’s gun fire behind him and he turns to see FBI agents swarming the building; Peter, Diana, and Agent Cruz among them.  Turning back to run to his bond-mate he sees Fowler on the ground and Neal kicking the gun from his hand before he starts running to the plane again.  Diana runs to Fowler and Peter runs towards Neal, stepping in front of Clint, all of them acting as if they can’t see him. _

_ “Neal!” he calls out at the same time Peter does. _

_ “Kate’s on the plane,” Neal shouts over his shoulder, his steps halting as he his eyes lock on Clint. _

_ “Kate?  Moreau?” Peter asks _

_ “Yes,” Neal answers as the plane explodes in a furious fire. _

_“_ **_Kate?!_** _” Neal roars as he turns to run towards the fireball, Clint moving to catch him and hold him back; but it’s Peter’s hands that grab Neal, Peter’s arms wrapping around Neal’s waist and pulling him back against him._

 

Clint wakes with a snarl on his lips.

“What the fuck?!” he spits out as he looks around the hospital room.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This storyis not beta'd and all mistakes are my own.

Neal sat in the chair on the left side Clint’s hospital bed.  His hands clasped tightly around Clint’s left hand.  He wasn’t letting go.  Peter was having a conversation, in forceful whispers, with one of the doctors.  He knows it’s about him; about the fact he hasn’t been examined, hasn’t allowed anyone to since they got him back.

 

From the moment he arrived he needed to see Clint; needed to understand how he had seen and heard Clint there, but then it hadn’t been Clint that held him back from running into the inferno the plane had become.  Clint hadn’t been there, which made sense; why would Clint have been there in a hospital gown.  So how had he seen him and heard him?  Had he been hallucinating?  Twice?  Or, he wonders as he sits there, is he losing his mind?  Because this room, it is so like it was in his dream.  No, it isn’t  **_ like _ ** it; this  **_ is _ ** it.

 

“Neal?” Peter’s voice calls out to him, “The doctors need to check you over, just to make sure that…”

“No, I’m not leaving him,” Neal interjects, “I can’t, I need to be here when he wakes up…”

“It’s just the sedative they gave him when he woke earlier; he’ll wake up soon,” Peter tries to soothe him.

“Why didn’t they let him stay awake?”

“He’s an alpha whose pregnant bond-mate was missing; he wasn’t exactly co-operative or thinking about his own need to recover from the surgery he had just had.”

Neal takes a calculated risk with his next words.

“When you turned to Cruz and Diana, and said that it had been twelve hours since Clint was shot and I was taken, was he sedated then or still under from the surgery?”

“He was… how do you know what I said then?”

“I saw it.  I was standing where I’m sitting now, you were on the other side of this bed, you turned to Cruz and Diana who were standing by the door and said to them ‘ _Come on; it’s been twelve hours since they snatched Neal, shot Jones, and killed the agents in the car.  Let’s not give them time to make another move ’_.  And Clint was in the hanger when you and the other agents arrived.  He saw me running towards the plane,” Neal’s voice is filled with worry and rising panic, “I need to be here when he wakes, I need to explain to him that I wasn’t going to leave with Kate; he needs to know I just wanted to talk to her, to understand why she left, and to explain to her why I want to stay here.  To stay with Clint.  He has to know I’d never leave him.”

“I’m sure he knows,” Peter reassures him, as Clint groggily tells him, “I know.”

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»» **  


“I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t mentioned the dreams or whatever they are,” Neal sulks at Clint while they are alone in the hospital room.  In the ten days since the events at the abandoned hanger they have been more thoroughly examined, scanned, poked, and prodded.  Admittedly they have carried out more scans and examinations of Clint than of Neal; some tests wouldn’t be safe to carry out on him in his condition.  But now he feels like he poked at a hornets’ nest and the things going to come back and sting him in the ass.

“It’s fine, whatever’s going on we’ll deal with it; together,” Clint reassures him; sitting up on the bed he takes Neal’s hand and brushes his lips against Neal’s knuckles, “Hopefully, that together will be out of here and back home.”

“I hope so too,” Neal smiles at him, his smile waning slightly as Peter and one of the doctors, Dr Diane Hughes if Neal remembers correctly, walks in.

 

“Not more tests?” Clint asks in exasperation.

“No,” the doctor replies as she looks up closing the folder she is holding over the papers she had been reading, “No more tests.  Tell me, have you ever heard the term ‘limbic resonance’?”

“The theory that the capacity for sharing deep emotional states arises from the limbic system of the brain,” Neal answers, and Clinton adds, “There were rumours that the intelligence services were trying find a way to use it, if it existed, to augment a mate-bond; that they thought that if it increased the empathy between the mated pair it could be used as a way to track agents in the field.”

“Yes,” Peter says, “Those rumours are apparently true based on the information Fowler gave during his interrogation.  It seems that the Doctor Ashley Williams, the director of the clinic was involved and an APB is out for her.  The changes to the batch number of the vials of suppressant, the missing surveillance footage, and the murder of Karl Thornton, were all to cover up the fact that the ‘suppressant’ Neal had been given was in fact an experimental drug from a lab with a defence contract.”

“ **What!?** ” Clint roars, “ **They gave Neal some experimental drug!  Why the hell did they do that!?  How the hell did they get their hands on it!?  Is that the cause of the hallucinations?** ”  Clint fires question after question; his concern for what they’ve done to Neal, the affects that it may have, pushing his dominant nature and instincts to the fore.

“If you can calm down we’ll tell you what we know,” Peter tersely states.

“If I…” Clint indignantly starts to answer back.

“Clint,” Neal softly calls to him, squeezing his hand, “You had surgery just a few days ago, I don’t want you to needing more,  **_ please _ ** relax and listen to them.”  Neal’s pleading and the concern in his eyes is enough to calm the alpha down.

 

“So, I compared the results of the scans and blood tests that were carried out against those we had from the trials,” the doctor starts to say.

“How did you get the results from the trials?” Neal asks, turning his attention from his alpha to the doctor.

“How I happen to have access to them is irrelevant,” she replies; returning his questioning gaze with a steely one of her own, “What matters is in the original testing the serum was injected in both the alpha and the omega.  That was not the case here; only Mr Caffrey was injected.  Given Mr Caffrey’s is still in the early stages of his pregnancy there are some tests that we don’t have data for to do a complete analysis, but we can extrapolate some of the data from the scans carried out on Agent Jones and the similarities between their results for the other tests carried out…”

“Can you cut to the chase doc, and tell us what’s going on?” Clinton interrupts her monologue.

“Yes,” she replies, clearing her throat with a short cough, “Agent Jones, your MRI scan showed that additional connections are being created between the left and right side of your brain, specifically in the frontal lobe; we expect that this is also occurring within Mr Caffery’s frontal lobe too as this would be consistent with the test subjects.  
The experiences that you both described are also comparable with those from the test subjects.”

“Can we meet any of these test subjects?” Neal asks.

“No.  That will not be possible,” the doctor curtly replies.

“Why not?” Neal presses her, “Talking to them might be able to help us deal with what’s happening.”

“You can’t…” she begins in reply.

“ **Why!?** ”  Both Peter and Clint demand.

 

The doctor sighs before she turns and walks over to the countertop that runs along the wall opposite the bed and monitors that Clint is still connected to.  She places the folder she was holding down and turns to face them, resting against the counter.

“You can’t talk to them because they are all dead,” she flatly states, “As I said before both the alphas and the omegas had been given the serum.  Agent Jones hadn’t, only Mr Caffrey.  The alphas that were part of the test group; the changes in their frontal lobe became far more pronounced after they mated with the omegas.  There were complications that developed rapidly after bonding with an omega that had also been given the serum.  Short attention span, difficulty in inhibiting emotions such as anger, excitement, or sadness etcetera, inappropriate aggression, inappropriate sexual behaviour; I could go on, the list isn’t short.  Treatment using psychoactive medication initially seemed to help, but the behavioural problems of the alphas escalated.

Scans showed that the two hemispheres of the frontal lobe had completely fused; swelling was causing the brain to press against the skull and resulting in internal bleeding.  We tried to counteract the effects, but nothing worked.  When the alphas succumbed to the injuries the omegas couldn’t deal with the loss; the intensity of the longing that the increased bond caused in them… they took their own lives.

So, no, you can’t talk to any of the alphas or omegas that were part of the original experiment…”

 

“You said that my scans showed the same type of changes in the frontal lobe that was consistent with the ‘test subjects’,” Clinton growls out, he doesn’t like the implications of what might be happening to him, or the fear that is showing in Neal’s eyes, “What does that mean?”

“It means that connections and fusion is consistent with that seen in the omega subjects, and initially within alpha subject; before they bonded with the omegas.  Your blood work also shows the chemical signature that means that the serum has been within your bloodstream, even though you were never injected with it.  I believe that during Mr Caffrey’s heat, when you mated with him, the serum was absorbed into you during mating; that this also happened with the original alphas meaning that they received an overdose of the serum, causing the side-effects that lead to their deaths.”

“So, Clint isn’t going to die,” Neal states more than asks.

“Everyone is going to die,” the doctor replies, “But, no, given the changes in Agent Jones are in line with those in the original omega subjects, I don’t believe he will experience the same extreme effects the other alphas did.”

“Extreme effects?  You have a gift for understatement,” Peter says.

 

“Due to those extreme effects,” the doctor replies, “The project was shut-down, the serum destroyed, and the formula secured.  When we noticed the theft of the formula and traced the purchases of the equipment and components required to manufacture it, we initiated the investigation that Agent Cruz was assigned to.”

“You want a medal?” Clint snaps at her; her cool, calm, composure chaffing at his annoyance over the distress the situation is causing his omega.

“No,” she calmly responds, irritating Clint more, “But given that 

(1) the serum was only administered to Mr Caffrey

(2) the intention was to create this enhanced bond between him and Agent Fowler

(3) that Agent Fowler isn’t revealing who he was reporting to

(4) whomever he was reporting to must have connections within either the research company or one of the two agencies that secured the formula

(5) everything seems to be related to a music box and we don’t know what is so special about the music box

(6) both Mr Caffrey and Agent Jones are going to need monitoring for any further changes resulting from the serum

Therefore, you will be working closely with Agent Cruz on her assignment, and I will be taking over as physician for the both of you.”

“What do you mean we’ll be…” Clint starts to question her before Peter interrupts.

“Hughes…”

“No relation,” the doctor intercedes.

“Hughes has already signed off on Doctor Hughes being assigned as your doctor; he feels the circumstances warrant close monitoring of your condition in order to ensure that it is safe to allow you back in the field once you’ve fully recovered.  He also feels that with Fowler’s unknown accomplice still out there, working with Agent Cruz when there are leads to follow is in everyone’s interest.”

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»» **  


Dr Hughes is sitting in her car in the hospital car park; she flips open her phone and makes a call.

“Director Beckett, ma’am, I’ve forwarded on the results from tests carried out on Mr Caffrey and Agent Jones; the results of the serum appear positive so far.  It’s possible the theft and my continued monitoring of the FBI agent and CI may give us the evidence to reinstate the project.”

“And what about those behind the theft?” 

“Agent Fowler has not given up any further useful information to the FBI; I recommend having him transferred to our custody for more thorough interrogation while Agent Cruz and the FBI follow what few leads he has given them.”

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»» **  


Clint closes the door on the last of their guests to leave; Mozzie.

 

It’s his first day back home, and all he wants to do is to wrap himself around his mate and not let go.  But Neal had arranged a party to celebrate.  Peter, Elizabeth, Diana, Christie, June, and Mozzie, had all been there to surprise him when Neal opened the door and let him enter first.

 

June told him how ‘it’s good to have you back dear’.  Mozzie had skulled around the periphery only really talking to Neal, June, and Elizabeth; keeping a wary eye on everyone else.  Elizabeth talked with Neal and him about getting the plans for their wedding back on track; there were decisions she needed from them in order to make the arrangements.

 

But now, with everyone else gone, he has Neal to himself.

 

Clint walks from the closed door to his Neal; his fingers tracing the line of the collar around Neal’s neck, the metal warmed from the constant contact with his skin.  Clint’s hand settles on the back of Neal’s neck and pulls him forward, taking his lips in his own, his tongue slides along the seam of his bond-mate’s mouth demanding entry.  

As Neal’s mouth opens their kiss deepens; Neal clings tightly Clint’s waist as he moans into the alpha’s mouth.

 

The alpha feels the disconnect, as if his hand is on the back of his own neck; as if he was moaning into his own mouth.  It’s like the ghost of a sensation tingling against his senses.  It occurs to him that his own arousal is more than his own; his feelings are being amplified by Neal’s.  The realisation causing him to growl his lust against Neal’s throat; the resultant spike in their mutual need becoming very apparent.

“Please,” Neal pleads, “I want you to…”

“Neal,” Clint wants nothing more than to lift his mate up, throw him down on their bed, and rip the clothes from his body.

“I don’t want you to rip the clothes, these pants are part of one of the Devore suits,” Neal’s words startling Clint from his hazy thoughts.

“How… never mind, bedroom, now,” Clint demands.

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»» **  


Neal is lying naked in the centre of their bed; staring up at his alpha with such need and want.  He can see that same desire reflected in Clint’s eyes; he can  **feel** that same intensity of passion feeding and fuelling his own emotions.   It’s like his own emotions reverberating back at him.  Except that over the last few weeks he’s starting to recognise when it’s Clint’s emotions he’s feeling; even when they match his own, like they do now.

 

An hour later, sweaty and tired, Neal is sitting astride Clint’s lap as they wait for the alpha’s knot.  Clint is leaning back against the headboard, his fingers lazily playing with Neal’s sensitive nipples.

“They’re a lot more sensitive than they were,” Clint teases him as Neal gasps and his ass clenches around his knot, “And bigger and darker.”

“Probably because of how much someone keeps, ah,” Neal’s reply is cut short as Clint leans forward, flicking Neal’s left nipple with is tongue before lightly nipping at it with his teeth.

“You know, if you keep squeezing my cock like that we could be tied together all night,” Clint joshes him.

“As if you would complain about that,” Neal retorts, before Clint captures his mouth in a kiss.

“True,” Clint smiles at him, before squeezing Neal’s right nipple as he pulls their heads together and kisses his mate more deeply as Neal moans into his mouth; Neal’s cock remaining hard between them as he feels the tight grip of his ass around Clint’s cock as if it were around his own, and Clint moans into the kiss as his own nipples harden at the ghost sensation as he teases and plays with Neal’s.

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»» **  


Kyle Duarte sat in the small bedroom of the apartment he was stationed at.  So far the surveillance mission was going well.  The devices had been easily planted in the subjects’ apartment, and he was receiving the transmissions from them.

 

His surveillance was for the protection of the subjects, but he knew that if things went south he’d be ordered to eliminate; the NSA would not allow the leaking of the experimental serum to be traced back to them.  And if either of the subjects discovered the listening devices or cameras things could very rapidly go south.  Especially if Clinton Jones found out another alpha was spying on him and his pregnant omega mate; and Jones had military training, it was highly possible that the devices could be found.

 

He had suggested to Director Beckett that she assign one of the omega agents to the surveillance task, or at least one of the betas, but she had insisted that it needed to be one of the experienced agents.  Given that predominantly the ‘experienced’ agents were all alphas, it seemed better that he capitulated to her suggestion that he was the best agent for the job.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight changes to what I had originally planned for the previous chapter and this one courtesy of binge watching "Sense8" and catching reruns of "Chuck" and "Jake 2.0", I really should update this more frequently so I don't go changing what I had planned; but those changes are more setting things up for the next story in the series...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not beta'd and all mistakes are my own.
> 
>   
>  ****  
>  ««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»   
>    
> 

 

 

They’re sitting around the conference table in the White Collar Crime Division; only those that know about Agent Cruz’s investigation into Fowler and the administering of the experimental drug to Neal.  Peter, Diana, Clinton, and Neal.

Clinton can’t keep his hands off his omega; especially as Neal sits next to him, his collar showing starkly against his neck, and his belly showing now that he is four months along in the pregnancy.  Clint’s fingers wrap around Neal’s, clasping their hands together, and Clint’s heart swells at the open smile Neal gives him.

 

“Okay,” Peter begins, “Given there are no leads taking us any further forward in Cruz’s case I need Neal to work on a new white collar case.”

“What case?” Neal asks the same time as Clinton does.

“We have a potentially crooked politician Senator Gary Jennings. His assistant, Dylan Ledding, thinks he may be illegally funnelling money into his campaign,” Peter explains, “We need Neal’s expertise in the field as…”

“Absolutely not!” Clint leaps from his chair as he roars across the table at his boss; he could see the irritation and consternation etch onto Peter’s face.  The case may Neal’s expertise, but there was no way he was allowing his omega fiancé in the field when he’s four months pregnant.

“Jones, we need him, he’s…” Peter tries to explain.

“ **My** bond mate, **my** omega,” Clinton forcefully reminds him, “I will not let you put him in harm’s way…”

“It’s not going to put him in danger, he’ll be undercover as a political fixer, it’s…”

“NO!” he stands his ground.  He was not letting Neal out in the field.

“How about,” Neal gently suggests as he reaches out, from the chair he was still sitting in and takes Clint’s hand, as Clinton and Peter argue across the table between them, “Clint goes undercover as the fixer, and we see how much help I can give using this new bond; after all, it’s going to be hard hiding the fact I’m an omega.  With this bump now showing I can’t exactly not wear my collar in public, I mean how would that look?  And Senator Jennings is more likely to hire a fixer that is at least a beta, if not an alpha.  Someone he’d see as capable of taking charge and getting things done; it’s unlikely he’d hire an omega for that, especially a pregnant one.”

 

Clint was thankful that Neal was not fighting him on this and, with some reservation on Peter’s part, Clint was set up with the alias of Benjamin Cooper; a Harvard grad like himself.  Clint chose to ignore Neal’s comment about Harvard being ‘so pedestrian’, he decided to spank him for it later; though from the glint in Neal’s eye as he said it he was sure that was what his omega was after.

 

It turned into a surreal experience.  Especially at the start, but as the case progressed Clinton found it far easier to slip between being in control of his own body and Neal being in the driving seat.

 

  
****  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
  


 

The first time meeting Jennings to pitch his idea to fix their problem, he could feel Neal at the back of his consciousness; the way Neal would sell the idea hard, the way he’d phrase his wording coming out of Clinton’s own mouth.  It was strange; that feeling of watching it unfold before him and being the one actually saying and doing it.  But it worked, Jennings ‘hired’ Ben Cooper.

 

Then when Clint turned up at the campaign office to start work Jennings hadn’t yet arrived.  So, he decided to search Jennings office.  Whether it was his or Neal’s decision he’s not sure, but it was Neal that got them in the office.  Clint could see Neal breaking into the office, but he knew he was the one that was actually physically there; not Neal.  Finding the matchbook with ‘CiNNaMoN 212’ written on it they both knew had to mean something.  But Clint knows it was Neal that had him asking Jennings for a light later, and finding out that Jennings doesn't smoke; and it was Neal that asked to be paid off the books, which Jennings was more than happy to make happen.

 

“It’s simple, we fight the building of the stadium over the new park that is clearly needed for the local community,” Clint is saying in the meeting with the Senator’s team; it’s clear to Clint, even without Neal whispering in the back of his mind, that campaign team haven’t a clue as to what is actually going on or why Neal’s plan will work. 

“What stadium?” some of the team are asking.

“In today's world, rumour is truth,” Clint hears Neal’s words coming out of his mouth before he knew he was speaking; and Jennings tells his team outright to trust what ‘Ben Cooper’ is saying.  Before the meeting progresses any further it is interrupted by campaign manager Reggie Mayfield; Jennings’s head dirt digger… ‘head of opposition research’.

When there is just Clint, Jennings, and Reggie in left in the room Reggie tells them that he has something to help get Peter off their back.  He pulls out photos of Peter in his home with a woman, dressed up nicely that they have confirmed is not his wife, Elizabeth Burke.   Clint recognises her immediately, it’s Diana; while he’s trying to formulate a response he feels Neal take over.

“There’s no way Burke is having an affair,” Clint finds himself saying, “He’s too much of a control freak, an affair would be too sloppy.  She’s probably a hooker; if we can find some way to get her under our thumb we can use her to get to Burke.”

There’s no way that Clint was telling Diana he… Neal… they had just made her a hooker.  That would only lead to hurt; he, or Neal… definitely Neal, would need to find some way to get Peter to tell her.

 

Diana takes the news better than he thought she would.  Which is how Neal finds himself hanging out in a hotel room with her while posing as her ‘client’.  Neal had leapt out of the van before Clint could tell him that if Jennings’s man, Barrow, was watching he would not believe a pregnant omega would be hiring a hooker, but from within the van Peter and he watched as Neal made it work.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Neal can be heard saying to Diana over the microphone.

“Are you sure you can afford…”

“My alpha can arrange for our ‘mutual friend’ to deliver the money,” Neal’s voice is low and quite as if he’s leaning in and whispering.  Clint instantly knew he was referring to Mozzie, but he wasn’t leaving the surveillance of his omega to anyone else.  

“What kind of alpha allows a sweet looking omi like you out on their own?” the voice of Jennings’s thug come across the wire and Clint can’t hold back the growl that rumbles out of him.

“Jones!” Peter’s voice calls out, and Clint realises he was about to jump out the van and run to Neal’s defence.  He’s missed part of the conversation; Diana saying something about harassing her ‘clients’.

“And you don’t have to worry about my alpha, he knows where I am,” Neal is saying, “And he knows how I need some attention when he’s busy working, how the pregnancy hormones can affect me.  He’s not gonna have a problem with this nice lady looking after me for a while; not that it’s any of your business.”

Clint immediately finds himself standing behind Neal, he sees Diana give Barrow a look as if trying to get him to back off, it seems to work as he steps away.

“Shall we go up to a room,” Neal says to Diana, as he turns to her he catches sight of Clint, and he feels the moment that Neal relaxes a little; the tension of the moment gone and suddenly Clint is back in the van.

“You okay?” Peter is asking, “You seemed to black out for minute.”

“Yeah, fine,” he replies.  Peter mostly accepts it with much further explanation, other than bond related and being with Neal and Diana; at least enough to go meet with Mozzie to get the money they need for Diana.

 

While Peter is out of the van Clint listens to Neal and Diana talking in the hotel room.  Diana explaining how she grew up living out of hotels; her father was a diplomat.  Then he hears Neal speaking, and feels the warmth of the emotion that the memory brings.

“I remember the first date with Kate.  We conned our way into some rich guy’s hotel room, and ordered the most expensive food they had; there were hamburgers that cost around five thousand dollars on that menu,” there’s a deep feeling of nostalgia washing over him as he continues, “From the window, there was a view of a rundown old bridge.”  Clint knows that Neal is thinking about Kate’s death, he wants to wrap his omega in his arms and take the pain he’s feeling away.

“You know,” Diana is saying, “I had a bodyguard named Charlie; he was like a father to me. Charlie died in the line of duty, protecting me.  He was right in front of me…”

“It’s not the same,” Neal says, and the wave of sorrow just engulfs Clint.  He standing across the other side of the room from Neal, the bed between them as Neal looks mournfully out of the window.  Diana’s standing behind him.  Neal’s next words take the air from Clint’s lungs, “It should have been me.”

The sudden shock on Neal’s face tells him that his omega knows he heard him; that he was there in the room with him.

 

“Jones,” Peter’s voice is pulling him, but he still feels the cold dread I his bones and tries to leave the van; he needs to see Neal, he needs to hold him and comfort him, but Peter is holding him back.

“I need to get to Neal,” he growls at Peter, pushing him back.

“Hold on,” Peter pushes back, “What’s happened?”  Clinton keeps struggling against the other alpha, “Jones, are they in danger?  Do we need back up?”

“I…” all Clinton can think of is that he needs to be with Neal; his omega needs him.

“Jones, we have the money; all we need to do is serialise it and then get Mozzie to take it up to Neal and Diana.  If we don’t we risk blowing the whole operation.  Do we need to…”

“No, it’s okay,” he finally replies, the level of emotion that had flooded him from Neal receding enough for him to think more clearly, “They’re not in danger, I just need to get Neal home.”

“Right, let’s get this done,” Peter says, “Then we can follow the money and arrest a corrupt senator.”

 

  
****  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
  


 

Neal is quite on the ride home.  He’s quite while they walk to their apartment, and as Clinton opens the door and they walk through.  As soon as the door closes Clinton warps his arms around his mate, pulling him tightly against him; his hands resting on bump of Neal’s belly as he lays small kisses at the nape of his neck over his collar.

“It shouldn’t have been you,” he whispers, “Please…” he can’t voice the fear, the confusion he feels.  He knows how strong their bond has become, and he can feel Neal’s emotions through the strength of their connection; how could he miss the sadness and ache that he felt when Neal was in that room and said ‘ _It should have been me’._

 

Neal turns in his arms, searching his face as warps is arms around Clint’s back, and Clint clasps his own fingers in the small of Neal’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Neal says, “I didn’t… I don’t wish I had been on the plane.  I… It’s just… she dead because of me, it was me they were after…”

“It’s not your fault,” Clint interrupts, feeling the rising sadness and pain in his mate as he talks.

“I know, but I still feel the guilt.  She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t because of me; it should have been me on the plane.”  Clint can’t hold back the sorrowful whine at the thought as Neal presses a kiss to his lips before continuing, “I’m glad I wasn’t, I’m glad I’m here with you, but… sometimes, when I think about her, I can’t help feeling partly responsible.”

 

The light is beginning to rise outside as they lay spooning in bed later; Neal the little spoon, with his alpha pressed tightly against his back, and his hand cupping the swell of his belly.  They didn’t have sex, both too emotionally drained, but needed the close intimate contact of skin on skin.

Neal tries to keep his feelings from leaking across the bond to Clint as he thinks.  It’s not like he hasn’t noticed the changes in himself.  In less than twenty weeks he’s become more of a stereotypical omega than he’d ever wanted to be.  He’s far more emotional, and more easily gives into his submissive desires.  And it’s true what he said to Clint, he’s glad that he’s here with him; glad that’s he bonded to the alpha and having his baby, their baby.  It’s not what he ever pictured for himself, and he knows that Clint never intended to be bonded to him either.  He knows that both of them are having their emotions manipulated by their biology and the mating bond, but the part of him that would rage against it has grown quieter over the weeks.  He can’t really hear it anymore, and that doesn’t bother him; not while he’s lying in his alpha’s arms.

“You’re not a stereo typical omega,” Clint huffs into his ear, “Now get some sleep before we have to get up and arrest a crooked politician.”

“Politicians, the original con men,” Neal quips before snuggling into Clint’s embrace.

 

  
****  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
  


 

The next day ‘Ben Cooper’ is earning his money as a fixer; selling his amazing advertising plan to the campaign staff.  Clint is letting Neal ‘drive’, as it were, it needs his flair; a fictional character named Timmy Nolan, a game of stickball, and a park.  He’s getting used to ‘letting go’ and Neal controlling what he does and says across the bond; it’s easier knowing that his omega is safe back at the office.  They soon have the staffers lapping up the concept.

 

Clint has Neal warn Peter that while Reggie thinks Burke is buried for now, he’s concerned that he could resurface as the Senator’s career climbs the political ladder.  He thinks the ‘ _girl’, meaning_ Diana, knows more and he has arranged for Barrow to get the information out of her. 

By the time Peter and his back up team burst into the room Diana has the situation well under control, and Barrow is on the floor with a bullet wound to his shoulder.

 

Clint feels the satisfaction from Neal boosting his own as Peter arrests Jennings and he’s taken into custody.

 

  
****  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
  


 

They’re sitting around the conference table in the White Collar Crime Division; Peter, Diana, Clinton, Neal, and Dr Diane Hughes.

 

“It’s surreal,” Clint says.

“And kinda cool,” Neal adds, “Like you’re controlling a character in a virtual reality game.”

“Except I was the character being controlled,” Clint glares at his fiance, “It wasn’t easy giving that control; went against every instinct, and I could only really do it because it was you,” he says looking directly in Neal’s eyes, “My mate.”

“There were some times when things got a little… tense,” Peter adds.

“When Neal was in the field and I could feel the need to protect him,” Clint huffs.

“I think given the circumstances that would be expected,” Hughes replies, “No alpha is going to be able to bury the instinct to protect their mate, especially when their mate is pregnant.  It’s why the intention of the project was for the alpha to be the one in the field and the omega at the base feeding back the information from the bond.”

“I was only in the field on this case in one instance, and it was necessary,” Neal says defensively.

“I know, but I didn’t like it,” Clint adds.

 

“Well, I think I have all I need for now,” Hughes flashes a smile at them before she adds, “So, I have you both booked in for a check-up tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Neal says without much enthusiasm.

“For now we have meeting with our wedding planner,” Clint adds.

“You don’t want to keep my wife waiting,” Peter smiles at them as they head out the door.

 

  
**  
««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««»»»»»»»»»»  
**  


 

“No ma’am, they haven’t found my surveillance equipment yet,” Durant reports, “The cameras and microphones are still operational, but I haven’t uncovered any relevant information from this assignment so far.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll continue with the stakeout,” he tries to keep the ire out of his voice.  This has been a waste of his time.  In the weeks since he started monitoring Alpha Jones’s and his omega’s apartment there has been no relevant suspicious activity.  And watching the alpha and his mate is only causing his own alpha instincts to push at his desire for an omega of his own as he watches the swell of Jones’s omega’s pregnancy blossom.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter posted.  
> This has not been beta'd and all mistakes are my own.
> 
>  
> 
> **««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  
>   
> 
> 
>   
> 

 

 

Neal looks down as the tailor once again takes the measurements to adjust the sherwani; at eighteen weeks, he now has a considerable bulge that wasn’t there during either of the previous two fittings.  A mere six weeks ago there was barely any sign that he was pregnant; some alphas could notice, picking up on his scent; but most people wouldn’t have been able to tell there was the start of a baby bump.

“Are you sure you’re not having twins?” the tailor asks out of nowhere.

“What?!” Neal gasps in shock, “No, the scans have only shown one baby.”

“My wife was this big at eighteen weeks, but we had twins; they can hide you know,” the tailor continues, “But her sister only had one and I guess she wasn’t that much smaller.”

 

As he stands there being measured he thinks back over the last few cases, trying not to think of what was just implied, and how Clint hasn’t really wanted him working out in the field.  There was only one reason that his alpha had allowed Neal to go into the field on the Lampson Gallery theft; the little detail of the criminology students copying one of his own scams.  They knew who Neal Caffrey was; making him the perfect person to draw them out and trap them.  It worked; they were able to catch Professor George Oswald and his students involved in the thefts and forgeries, but he could feel Clinton’s worry nagging away in the back of his mind while he helped lure them in.

 

Though the next time he went out in the field he wasn’t strictly working on an FBI case.  And he did end up in danger, though he blames Burke for that; if Diana hadn’t sent him a message to warn him of the danger he and Mozzie were in he wouldn’t have needed rescuing in the first place.  It’s not like he could ignore his friend and not help him; and in the end, they saved the girl and caught the criminal.  However, his alpha decided that he needed to be punished for putting himself and their unborn child in danger.  Unfortunately, Clint decided the way to punish him was to lock him in a chastity cage; that was six weeks ago, and he’s been locked in the contraption ever since.  Clint is only taking it off him the night of their wedding.

He finds it highly annoying, especially with his pregnancy hormones increasing his sex drive and making him **_very_** horny, but what is specifically annoying about it is that he can see Clint’s point about him putting himself and their baby in danger.  However, Clint decided that he wasn’t allowed in the field, at least in person, starting with their next case.

 

Well, he was briefly.  When meeting the investigator from Sterling Bosch that was handling the case involving stolen Japanese bearer bonds worth one hundred million dollars.  Though once he found out that investigator was Sara Ellis he would have happily stayed back at the office.  She did testify against him at his trial, over the theft of a Raphael painting that her company insured; though he was acquitted of that theft.  For the rest of the investigation he was in the office, or surveillance van guarded by Peter and Diana, while Clint got to play the undercover role they would have given him.  But he still kind of did play the role, the limbic bond between them allowing Neal to be there with Clint, to feel his experience, and track him far more closely than the GPS tracker in the watch Clint was wearing could.  Especially when the voice transmitter and GPS were blocked.  Nothing blocked their bond.

 

And during their next case he did get to go in the field with Diana; pretending to be her omega husband and she his beta wife, unable to have children of their own they needed to adopt.  Just as well the crooked lawyer they were investigating was a beta and couldn’t pick up on his scent, and that he wore a shirt a size larger than normal.  Clint got to play poker, and win, with help across their bond.  In need of cash their suspect showed his hand and revealed the scam.

 

Their bond came in handy during the next case too, when they were called into the office on a Saturday to meet with US Marshals that were hunting for FBI Agent Jack Franklin; the Marshals’ claimed that he agent had tried to access their witness database.  Neal had to stay in the office while Clint went with Peter to visit Franklin’s former CI at the Lamborghini dealership where she now works.  While they were at the dealership Neal managed to use their bond to persuade Clint to let him take control and pass him off as a new salesman on his first day at work; he makes a sale and manages to con another salesman into logging him into the system as the CI, saying that he promised to split the commission.  This let them find out that she had taken one of her aliases out on an hour and half test drive, and that the car had GPS tracking.

Later though he does get to go out in the field, with Clinton and Marshal Decker they now knew was responsible for selling out the witnesses that had disappeared or been killed; and with Mozzie’s help turned the Decker and the crooked attorney he was working with against each other.  Both selling out the other.

 

Their last case was a murder investigation; linked to corporate espionage, which is why the White Collar division was involved.  Joseph Hayes, the lead R&D specialist at technology firm Novice Systems, dropped dead of a heart attack and was robbed of a next-generation quantum microprocessor for binary code-breaking.  This time Neal didn’t physically get into the field at all.

Peter went undercover at the company as an auditor, and gets his ‘friend’ Clint a job in the marketing department; to do some water cooler eavesdropping.  They make some use of Neal’s skills through the bond, to swipe key-cards and at the end to hot wire the elevator and save Peter’s life, but mostly Clint handles the snooping on his own.  However, Neal got a taste of why Clint worries about him being out in the field when a gun was pulled on Clint in a deserted walkway where he had no back up.  For the briefest of moments his breath caught and he felt time stop around him until he knew his alpha was safe.

Realising then how worried he had been about Clint, he knew he should take Clint’s worrying about him when he is in the field more seriously.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

Clint was in the jewellers on fifth avenue to collect the rings that he and Neal ordered on-line; matching Celtic Knot wedding bands in wide tapered eighteen carat yellow gold.  Now he’s noticed their collection of omega bonding collars and is looking over the selection on display; he wants to replace Neal’s plain stainless steel collar with something that shows how much he means to him.

There is a solid sterling silver collar, twenty-millimetre-wide, three-millimetre-thick at the top and bottom rim, curving out to five-millimetre at the centre; fixed around the bevelled outside of the silver collar are strands of gold wire in a never-ending pattern of the Celtic Lover’s Knot.  The collar has the same screw locking mechanism as his current collar, but instead of the standard O-ring attachment to slide over the lock, a Claddagh ring stands out from the attachment.

“What’s the ring made of?” he asks the jeweller.

“The ring attachment is made of Tungsten Carbide, Sir.  A hard metal was used as many alphas like to attach a leash to their omega’s collar, and thus a soft metal would have been more prone to damage, the silver of the collar is coated with Rhodium.  There is also a plain lock cover without the ring attachment,” the man smilingly replies, “This collar is on sale at just one thousand and two hundred dollars”.

He decides that this is the collar he wants, it just happens to be the right size for Neal like it was predestined; and it will be a surprise for him.

“I’ll take it,” he says decisively; and then thinks that between the rings and the collar he may have just maxed out his credit card.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

Neal looks out over the guests; those seated on his side fewer in number than Clinton’s.

Mozzie is sitting beside June and her granddaughters, and Elizabeth is there too.  Diana and Christie are standing beside him.  With Elizabeth organising and running the show she didn’t want to take on the role of maid of honour; so, luckily Diana and Christie stepped in.  Neal’s still not sure who’s maid of honour and who’s omega’s maid.

Only Clint’s immediate family are here at the ceremony, and only those attending the ceremony will be at the meal, in the Heaven over Hell Suite at Kimpton Ink48 Hotel; but there will be far more at the reception later.  Neal still isn’t sure why their ceremony is happening so early, and the meal is arranged for twelve o’clock, with the reception starting at two thirty; other than something has been planned that he doesn’t know about.

 

His eyes fall on Clint, his alpha, smiling at him radiantly; the blue of his double-breasted suit matching the blue in Neal’s sherwani.

 

“I, Clinton Jones, take you, Neal George Caffrey, as my wedded omega.  
To have and to hold from this day forward.  
I promise to be true to you, to love you, guide you, and to keep you safe; and I promise to help you to be the best person you can be.”

Clint slides the ring on to Neal’s finger.

 

“I, Neal George Caffrey, accept you, Clinton Jones, as my wedded alpha  
I give to you my unending love and devotion.  
I promise to love, honour, worship, and obey you from this day forward and for the rest of my life.”  Neal can barely get the words out between the tears that start to cloud his vision, he’s blaming the pregnancy hormones for his emotional state; as he slides the ring on to Clint’s finger he’s glad this part is now all over and he can sit and compose himself before the pictures are taken. 

The registrar’s next words catch him by surprise.

 

“You may now collar your omega.”

Neal is sure they were skipping this part as he’s already wearing his collar.  He looks at Clint with confusion as he unlocks are removes his collar.  His neck feels strange without the collar in place, and then he sees Clint lift the silver and gold collar from a box that Peter his holding.

As Clinton locks the silver collar around his neck he feels the reassurance of the weight as it rests against him.  Clint leans in and takes a kiss from his lips, they both smile into the kiss as there are claps and ‘ahs’ from the guests.

“Why did you buy something so extravagant?” Neal asks as they rest their foreheads together.

“Because you’re worth it,” his alpha smiles in reply.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

“The collar looks stunning,” Elizabeth says as she dances with Neal at the reception.  One of the few people Clint has allowed him to dance with; as he doesn’t want Neal to over-exert himself.

“I know,” he replies, smiling at her as they make their way back to their seats, “I still can’t believe he bought this, I was happy enough with the one I had…”

“This looks way better than the plain steel one…”, she pauses as they sit and she takes a sip from her glass of wine.  Neal drinking his soda-water and lime.

“And looks like something he deserves,” Clinton adds, leaning over from his seat beside Neal and kissing his cheek.

“Indeed,” June adds, “It’s good to see an alpha show how much they care for the omega that they have bonded with.”

 

“However, it’s time for us to leave,” Clint says.

“Leave?” Neal asks, raising his eyebrows, he sees Elizabeth, June, and Peter share knowing glances, “Where are we going?  Should we get changed?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Clint says.  

“I’ll make sure all the presents get back to your apartment safely,” Elizabeth tells them,

Clint takes Neal’s hand and leads him round their guests to say goodbye.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

Getting there took a seven-minute walk along forty-eighth street and then twelfth avenue; the Manhattan Cruise Terminal.

“What are we doing here?” Neal asks as he stops, looking at the cruise ship ahead of them.

“Going on our honeymoon,” Clint smiles back at him as he turns and looks at his omega husband, “Seven-night Bermuda Cruise…”

“How?  I don’t have a passport, and I’m not allowed…”

“You don’t need a passport, you’re my bonded omega, so I had you added to mine,” Clint sees the growing frown and darkening expression, “And, given the conditions of your work-release program, I got special dispensation to take you on this cruise…”

“What about the situation with the other agencies?” Neal asks referring to the case with Agent Cruz and Doctor Hughes; specifically, his heat suppressants being switched, his kidnapping, Kate Moreau’s death, Clint’s near fatal shooting, and Catherine the Great’s amber music box.

“There’s been no further development on that over the last eight weeks; Fowler, as far as we know, hasn’t given them anything.  So, they approved this short vacation too.”  Clint knows that Neal is feeling like he’s been treated as just an omega that must go along with whatever their alpha has arranged for them, but that really wasn’t his intention.  He wanted to surprise Neal with this; he booked something he thinks Neal will enjoy, “I wanted this to be a surprise for you, something you’d like.  They’ve got fifteen restaurants, seventeen cafes and bars, three pools, a gym, spa, there’s a theatre, a casino, clubs, an art gallery…”

“An art gallery?” Neal enquires.

“Yes, and I booked us into their Haven Spa Suite,” Clint says, it means we have an in-suite whirlpool, private balcony, an oversized waterfall shower, …”

“Okay, I get that you wanted to surprise me, I shouldn’t have…” Neal’s apology is interrupted by Clint’s lips brushing his.

“Come on, let’s get aboard before they leave without us,” he smirks as his omega.

“What about a change of clothes?” Neal asks as they walk towards the gangplank;.

“Our luggage should already be aboard, and in our room,” Clint informs him.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

Neal is impressed with their stateroom; it’s not massively big, it’s on a ship after all, but there is plenty of room for them both.  The shower looks great, and can’t wait to try out the whirlpool later, but first he has something else entirely on his mind.

“You know, you did promise me that today my punishment would be over, and you’d take off my cock cage,” he says wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“I think you’ll find I said that I’d take it off tonight,” Clint smirks back, noting how Neal referred to the chastity device as ‘my cock cage’.  He takes Neal’s mouth in a kiss, before pulling back, “We should maybe shower and change for dinner before things get too heated.”

 

Things don’t cool down though when Clinton joins Neal in the bathroom and they find that they both fit easily into the large shower; the alpha unable to keep his hands off his omega as he washes Neal’s hair, his back, drops soft kisses on Neal’s neck and cheeks.  Neal feels the press of Clint’s excitement against him, and can’t stop the soft moans that his alpha draws from him.

 

Clinton is lying on his back on the bed, Neal straddling him as he raises himself up and down on the alpha’s hard cock; his own pressing against the confines of the cock cage as he leaks over Clinton’s abs.  Clinton’s hands roam over the swell of Neal’s belly and up to his chest, teasing at his nipples, pulling needy moans and curses from his omega.

His hands slide down to grasp Neal’s hips and he rocks up, pushing his knot into his bond mate; locking them together.  Neal’s head falls back as he pleads with his alpha.

“Please, please, Clint, alpha, please, I need to…” 

“Ssh, it’s okay,” Clint sits up, his hands sliding up Neal’s back as he pulls their bodies closer, bringing their lips together and kissing his mate, “I promise, when we get back from dinner; the cage comes off and I will make sure you come tonight, tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon, tomorrow night, and every day of this honeymoon.  How are you feeling?” he asks, kissing Neal’s cheek.

“Fine,” he replies, to eyebrows raised in concern from Clint, “Good, if horny and frustrated.” 

“I’m not pushing you too much?”  He knows Neal agreed to the chastity cage, and the length of time, as a punishment; but they haven’t seriously discussed their growing list of kinks.

“No,” Neal replies, feeling the concern leaking from his alpha, “I…” he’s not sure how to put into words what’s going through his head; he has mixed feelings about his cock cage.  Clint waits for him to continue.  “I’m just very eager to be allowed to come when you do, again.”

“Soon,” Clint growls eagerly, “Though we need to quickly get dressed once we’re no longer tied…”

“I’m going to need to get cleaned…”

“No, I want people to smell me on you; know that your mine, and,” from under the pillows behind him he pulls out a stainless steel five-inch tapered butt plug, with a jewelled base, “I thought you could wear this to stop my come from leaking out.”

“I…” Neal flushes as pink as the jewel in the base of the plug.  Clint feels the arousal spark in his omega again as Neal stares at the metal plug; feels both their hearts hammering in their chests.  “Okay,” Neal agrees.

 

Neal doesn’t pay too much attention to the conversation at the table in the restaurant; too aware of the plug in his ass beneath the Devore suit.  There are four others at the table; three betas and one omega, from the scents he picks up.  He acknowledges the compliments on his collar, from the betas mostly, and makes small talk with the only other omega at the table; Jake something, who works in computer tech and is on holiday with his beta friend Susan who works with him.

He lets Clint carry most of the conversations, commenting that he’s a little tired from the stress of the busy day of their bonding ceremony.  He just wants to be back in their room, alone with Clint taking care of the arousal he has built up in both of them; he’s not sure how his alpha is able to focus on anything else.

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

No sooner are they back in their stateroom than Clinton has Neal naked and is unlocking and removing the cock cage.  It’s quickly thrown aside and the alpha is kneeling before his omega and taking his cock in his mouth, sucking it, licking it, and pulling gasps and moans from Neal as he hardens in his alpha’s mouth.

“Please, alpha, please, Clint, I’m gonna…” Neal cries out and suddenly his cock feels cold as Clint’s mouth is removed and he grasps at the base of Neal’s cock stemming his orgasm.

“On the bed on all fours,” he demands; Neal quickly scrambles to obey.  Clint pulls the butt plug from Neal’s ass and places it to the side before sliding his own hard member into the slick, warm, entrance.

Clint’s hands caress along the curve of Neal’s belly and seek out his sensitive nipples to pinch and pull; causing Neal to thrust back against his alpha’s quickly swelling knot.  

 

It’s all too soon before they are both shooting their release; Neal slumping forward with the power of his first orgasm in several weeks.  Clint pulls them both into a comfortable position on the bed, spooning Neal from behind, as they wait for his knot to deflate.

 

Clint keeps his promise on the following days of their cruise.  Neal finds himself either filled with his alpha’s cock or with the plug keeping him filled.  Any time they leave the stateroom he has the jewelled plug keeping his alpha’s seed sealed inside him; including on their trips ashore when the ship docks at King's Wharf, to the Bermuda Art Centre and Horseshoe Bay.

Trips that the omega they met at the first dinner, Jake, and his friend Susan, join them.  The more time that Neal spends with Jake and Susan, the more he feels there is something off about their ‘friendship’; they don’t talk to each like friends that would go on holiday together.  When he gets Jake talking about his friend and when they started holidaying together the omega says “it’s our first trip together; my friend Darin was supposed to be with me, but that fell through.  The travel agency I organised through said I couldn’t get a refund, and that they wouldn’t let an unbonded omega travel on the cruise alone; I was lucky that Susan was willing to take time off and come with me.”

Jake also somehow gets the conversation on to heats, and happily tells Neal how he often takes scent blockers when working, but doesn’t like to use them otherwise and that he never uses suppressants.  His next heat is due a couple of weeks after they get back from the cruise, and he always spends his heats alone.  He has a heat room set up in his apartment that is soundproofed.

Neal can’t shake the feeling that there is something off about Jake and Susan, but other than setting off Neal’s instincts that their story doesn’t add up, nothing really comes of it during the rest of their trip. 

 

  
**««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»«««««««abo»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»««««««««abo»»»»»»»»**  


 

Arriving back at their apartment both Neal and Clint are looking forward to sleeping in their own bed again.  Despite how enjoyable the cruise was, Neal needs his home comforts.

 

As Clint is taking their luggage into the bedroom, Neal sees the stack of wedding presents on the table.  One catches his eye.

“Clint?!” he calls, a slight panic in his voice having his alpha rush to his side.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”

“On the table, with the wedding gifts; it’s the music box.”

“Someone got us a music box?  I don’t remember that.”

“No.  It’s  ** the music box.  Catherine the Great’s music box.” **

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is still interest in this series I do have a third story planned (which may be obvious given the ending); though I don't intend to post this until I have completed the story so that there aren't the long delays between chapters as there have been with this story that I started posting in March 2013.

**Author's Note:**

> There are several stories I am working on. So please comment if this is one that you like; comments help me focus when I'm being pulled in different directions by thoughts jumping from one story to another.


End file.
